Through the Eyes of a Child
by Dreamlight Violet
Summary: An encounter with the Black Organisation after a heist leads to Kaito becoming a victim of the Apotoxin. Now stuck as a seven-year-old, he enrolls in Teitan Elementary and tries to blend in. But Tantei-kun is hiding something, and Kaito is determined to find out what—hopefully without blowing his own cover in the process.
1. Suddenly Small

_So, I've seen a couple fics where Kaito is shrunk (there aren't nearly enough, in my opinion. It's such an interesting plot point to explore) and all the ones I've read, Kaito ends up staying with Conan as his brother. I liked the idea, but I wanted to change it up a bit._

 _What if Kaito wasn't aware of Conan's identity, and so tries to hide his identity from the detective?_

 _It sounded interesting, so... here it is._

 _Oh, and I don't own DCMK, and I almost certainly never will - I have the drawing skills of a potato._

 _Just a warning though - it starts off quite dark, but will get lighter in later chapters._

* * *

Kaito had always wondered what dying was like. Now that he was experiencing it firsthand, he could say one thing for sure – it wasn't fun.

For starters, it _hurt_. It hurt so much that it almost felt like his bones were melting into liquefied marrow – and perhaps they were – and his body ached all over as if he'd just completed a century-long work out. His vision was blurry and dark, his head throbbing like a pulsating second heart, his thoughts swimming from the fever that was relentlessly attacking his brain. His skin was hot and sticky with a thick, salty liquid. He didn't need to glance at the substance to know it was his own blood.

 _Oh, well._ It was going to happen eventually. He'd known from the start that fighting against the Ravens was a suicide mission, something only someone with a death wish would try. You'd have to be out of your mind to even think about it, let alone actually attempt it.

Had he been out of his mind? Perhaps a little. Tantei-kun and the task force clearly thought so.

Despite the desperate situation he was in, Kaito laughed. It was a strangled, maniacal sound, and almost certainly made him sound more than a little deranged. But he'd never cared about seeming unhinged before, so why should he start now? There was no point to it. Besides, it wasn't like there was anyone nearby to hear him anyway.

Speaking of which, where were Nakamori and the task force? Kaito had escaped from the heist venue by hang glider; there should have been a hoard of police cars eagerly pursuing him from below. But this time, there had been nothing. And when he had stopped for a break in a nearby abandoned warehouse, the Ravens had found him, and forced him to swallow a red and white pill of an unknown substance.

An unknown substance that turned out to be very, very toxic.

His corpse would be found eventually, dressed in Kid's signature outfit, and his identity would be discovered. His mother would be devastated. She had already lost her husband; how would she cope with losing her son too? Nakamori would be horrified. Aoko would be furious at him for lying to her initially, for making her family suffer. But then the grief would kick in, and she'd cry and cry and cry until she had no tears left to shed.

At least when he was dead he wouldn't have to see her cry,

He realised suddenly that he couldn't move his limbs. Was his body shutting down already? Was he going to die that soon? He had so much more he wanted to do with his life. Find the right person, learn to ice skate, become a world famous magician, maybe even conquer his fear of fish. There was so much more he wanted to do.

Would Tantei-kun cry, he wondered? He'd never seen the child cry before, not even once. Such an odd child, Edogawa Conan was – a mystery that never shed a tear. Would the boy be at all sad if Kaito died?

Probably not. Tantei-kun only knew Kid, the illustrious phantom thief. He knew him as a rival, someone to battle with and try to defeat at all costs. He didn't know Kuroba Kaito, the boy who loved magic with a passion, the boy who flipped Aoko's skirt in order to spark a reaction, the boy who was deathly afraid of fish and terrible at ice skating and had a mildly unhealthy addiction to triple chocolate fudge ice cream sundaes.

He knew of Kid, but he didn't know _Kaito_.

The thought was sad and strange and painful, and didn't quite make sense to his exhausted brain.

He knew these were his final moments. He knew he should be thinking of his mother, his father; of Aoko and Nakamori-keibu; of all those people who had had such a huge impact on his life, who he cared about. Yet the only thing on his mind was the way Tantei-kun's cowlick stuck up no matter how hard he tried to smooth it down, and the way whenever he figured something over his lips quirked into a lopsided smirk and those blue, blue eyes gleamed dangerously behind their oversized frames.

Kaito would never see those blue eyes again.

 _He didn't want to die._

Time ticked by, and Kaito's clock shuddered to a halt.

And, somehow, restarted.

* * *

"Hey, kid, wake up!"

Kaito pried open eyes heavy with exhaustion and blinked, his vision gradually sharpening. Directly above him was a man's face. He appeared to be wearing a police uniform of some sort – a task force uniform?

Was he still at the heist? Kaito jolted upright, eyes wide with horror. Panicked, he checked his wrists for handcuffs – surely they'd be there, glinting silver under the moonlight? – but found nothing. His wrists were bare. Glancing upwards, he stared at the man. Behind him were multiple other taskforce members, all with the same concerned expression on their faces. Yet something struck Kaito as odd about them; all of a sudden, the task force members all seemed awfully tall, taller than they had been earlier. It was an unpleasant, disorienting sensation, and he shook his head in attempt to clear it.

"Are you all right?" The man's voice was high-pitched and gentle, the way one's voice went when one spoke to small children. Kaito scowled. What, was he being treated like a kid, now? How old did they think he was, six?

He got to feet, brushing himself off, before abruptly realising that his clothes were much heavier on him than they should be. He was practically drowning in swathes of thick, blood-stained fabric. Alarmed, Kaito stumbled backwards, staring down at his hands, which upon standing had been immediately blanketed by waves of white material. Trembling violently, he shook his sleeves down his arms to gain access to his hands – and very nearly screamed aloud.

His long, slender hands, deft from years of sleight-of-hand, were gone, replaced instead by tiny ones with short, slim fingers and trimmed fingernails. He flexed his fingers, and the miniature fingers obeyed. There was no doubting it – those little hands were his. But how?

People didn't _de-age_ , just like that. They grew older. Becoming younger shouldn't have been possible. It _couldn't_ have been.

But, somehow, it must have been, because he was currently about five years old, and the taskforce were towering over him like human giants.

That same man knelt down, asked what his name was, why he was covered in blood, why he was wearing Kid's suit, if he had any clothes his size, and Kaito just stared, his brain unable to process the flood of new information.

 _It didn't make any sense._

So Kaito did the only thing he could think to do in the situation – he ran.


	2. Lost in an Unknown City

_Firstly, I don't own DCMK._

 _Secondly, I wasn't quite sure who Kaito was going to end up staying with. I knew he couldn't go home, and the last place he would go was the Mouri Detective Agency, so I was a little stumped. In the end, I decided on someone though._

 _Hope you enjoy!_

* * *

Kaito would probably have kept on running indefinitely had he had the stamina.

As it was, his too-short legs were aching, his too-small lungs were begging for oxygen and his too-tiny feet were sore and blistered. He slowed to a stop, panting heavily, and oriented his surroundings.

He was in an unfamiliar area, a deserted side street lined by an assortment of mix-and-match houses.

Kaito frowned. _Odd_. The heist venue had been located in Ekoda, Kaito's home town, and because Ekoda was such a small area, Kaito knew it like the back of his hand. If he didn't recognise this area... then, at some point, he must have left Ekoda.

That was the awful moment Kaito realised that not only was he under four feet tall and freezing cold and kind of peckish, he was also utterly lost.

Lady Luck was _not_ on his side tonight.

He had to think. The first thing he needed was a change of clothes. It wouldn't do to be discovered wearing an oversized Kid suit. People would ask questions, awkward questions he couldn't answer without giving away his identity. Fortunately, he always carried a spare set of clothes on his person during heist, just in case. Sure, they were about a gazillion sizes too big for him, but they were also a gazillion times better than the outfit he was currently wearing.

Tugging on a giant T-shirt, he jammed his suit beneath a nearby dumpster (though he kept his monocle tucked away in his pocket, so that it wasn't at risk of breaking) making a mental note to retrieve it later, once he'd figured out what to do. After double checking that the suit couldn't be easily seen, he continued on his way, considering his options.

First and foremost, he needed a place to stay. He couldn't go home — that was where the Ravens would check first. But where else was he supposed to go? He could go to Aoko. The girl loved children, and would probably be overjoyed to have one in the house. But Aoko had known Kaito for as long as he could remember; she'd almost certainly recognise him as her younger childhood friend, and then there'd be trouble.

No, he couldn't go to Aoko. Who else, then? Tantei-kun? No way. Tantei-kun was a child prodigy whose genius rivalled Kaito himself. Living in close proximity with him was a sure-fire way to blow his cover. Akako?

At that thought, Kaito felt a little nauseous. Living with Akako would be... would be... Words could not describe how brain-numbingly horrifying that would be.

Drawing to a halt, Kaito realised he was in the middle of a large park. There was nobody around, which wasn't surprising — it had to be past midnight by now. Kaito kind of wished he had a clock, actually. Well, sure, it wouldn't be much use in this situation, but still, it would be nice to know the time. Not knowing made Kaito feel like he had lost control, and control over the situation was what he desperately needed right then.

He was exhausted, he realised with a jolt. He had been fine in his seventeen-year-old body, but this child body obviously wasn't built for long periods without sleep. He needed a bed and he needed sleep. Thinking could wait until morning.

To the right of the gravel path beneath Kaito's feet was a park bench, painted a yellow so bright it practically glowed in the dark. It was dilapidated and probably uncomfortable and the paint was all but chipped away, but it was better than nothing.

He curled up on the cold, hard bench and fell asleep.

* * *

When Kaito awoke, there was a face above him. _Again_. He blinked and groaned. "Not again," he muttered. "I'm getting a serious case of déjà vu here."

The young man frowned in confusion, and Kaito felt a strange mixture of joy and horror as he realised that he recognised him. "Hakuba?"

Hakuba took a step backwards, visibly alarmed. "Y-you know my name?"

 _Crap._ Kaito had forgotten than he was a child now. He wasn't supposed to know Hakuba at all. _Time to improvise._

Nodding enthusiastically, Kaito chirped in the most childish voice he could manage (which actually came incredibly easily to Kaito. He was aware that he wasn't the most mature of teenagers), "Yep! I've seen you on TV loads of times! You're a detective, aren't you, Oniichan?"

Hakuba nodded, and for a brief moment, his face lit up with smug pride. Only a _very_ brief moment, however, as his proud expression was quickly replaced by one of concern ( _Concern?_ Kaito hadn't known that Hakuba was _capable_ of being concerned for anyone's well-being but himself!) "Are you...? Where are your parents?" His gaze trailed downwards to Kaito's over-sized t-shirt, and the furrows on his brow deepened. "Don't you have any clothes your size?"

Kaito's brain whirred, weaving together a story in a matter of seconds. Lying was one thing Kaito was definitely good at. "I don't have any parents," he said, throwing in a teary-eyed sniff for effect. "Otou-san and Okaa-san are gone. They've been gone for two years. T-the people at the orphanage were mean to me, so I ran away." He pointed at his t-shirt. "I lost my suitcase in a river, so I had to wear this." Then he turned his saddest puppy dog eyes on the now-older detective. "You won't make me go back there, will you, Oniichan?"

Hopefully, Hakuba wouldn't ask any difficult questions.

Hakuba looked at him with something similar to, but not quite, pity. Then, to Kaito's immense surprise, he offered, "Would you like a hot chocolate? I don't live far from here. I can give you a change of clothes too, and a place to stay until this is sorted out. Would you like that?"

Kaito barely managed to catch his jaw from dropping. "W-what?" he said disbelievingly, his cute kid mask slipping, his voice a full octave lower than it had been before. "You're kidding, right?"

Fortunately for Kaito, Hakuba didn't seem to notice anything strange about him. It occurred to Kaito that the blond likely he didn't know how kids were supposed to act, having been a genius private-tutored only child for most of his life. "I don't see why not."

Kaito wasn't sure whether to be horrified or overjoyed when Hakuba took his hand. After Hakuba bought him a chocolate ice cream, he decided on the latter. Maybe living with Hakuba wouldn't be so bad...

...had he actually just thought that?

* * *

"Wow! Saguru-niichan, your house is so big!" Kaito cringed slightly as the word 'Saguru-niichan- left his mouth. It tasted weird and wrong and he was inwardly mortified. He didn't let it show though, instead bouncing around the cream-coloured western-style house with all his usual boundless energy. He spun around to find Hakuba had disappeared off to somewhere, shrugged, and began a long-winded search for the TV remote.

Ten minutes later, he still hadn't found it, which was disappointing, to say the least. The wall mounted flat-screen TV was wider than he was tall with plenty of room to spare, and was apparently HD, too. Kaito had wanted to see if the image really was as good as Hakuba had claimed it was. Oh well. That could wait for another day, he supposed.

Just as Kaito had given up and collapsed onto the ivory loveseat, Hakuba had returned with a set of clothes that had belonged to him when he was younger ("Speaking of which, how old are you?" "Uh... six?") and told him to take a shower.

One refreshing shower later, Kaito was curled up in a flowery armchair wearing clean clothes, a mug of thick, molten chocolatey goodness (with marshmallows!) cupped in his little hands. Hakuba was sitting on the same loveseat Kaito had been sitting on half an hour ago, a cup of tea on the glass coffee table directly in front of him. He was surveying Kaito with inquisitive golden eyes, frowning.

"I never caught your name," he said, and Kaito froze.

 _A name._ How could he have forgotten a name? _Stupid, stupid, stupid!_ Desperately, Kaito scrambled for something, _anything_. "My name?" he asked, his voice coming out as a shrill squeak. "My name is, uh... Ku... Kurosawa Kai." He winced at how similar it sounded to his real name.

"All right, Kai-kun," said Hakuba. "I hope you don't mind my company. It appears you'll be here a while."

Kaito just sipped his hot chocolate, nodding slightly as he wondered what exactly he'd gotten himself into.


	3. Wistful Memories of a Childhood Past

_Disclaimer: I don't own DCMK._

 _So, finally updated. This chapter took me a little longer than usual, but I finished it eventually. Let me know what you think of it!_

* * *

Long-forgotten memories of Kaito's childhood were resurfacing in the lake of information that was his mind—and he loved it.

He remembered being too small to reach the kitchen cupboards, and overcoming that obstacle by climbing, monkey-like, onto the kitchen counter (to his mother's great displeasure) to reach the cups. He remembered sneaking into the kitchen and secretly snacking on cookies and candy when his parents weren't paying attention. He remembered charging up the stairs on all four legs, pretending to be a tiger or a rhino or a gorilla, and making animal noises to match.

But most of all, he remembered practicing magic tricks outside with his dad all day, the merging sensations of warm sun and cool breeze feeling almost magical against his skin; a packet of assorted gummy candies and a pack of cards lying beside him on the grass as he repeatedly practised making a coin disappear and reappear.

He missed the taste of gummy candies. Maybe in this second childhood he'd get to taste them again. He had ten years left until he reached his original age again, after all.

No. He had to stay positive. He _would_ get his body back. He _would_ return home. He _would_ find Pandora.

He had to.

* * *

Kamen Yaiba, Kaito discovered, was the greatest show ever made. It was dumb. It was cheesy. The special effects were awful. The plotlines were worse. But it was a gazillion times more fun than any adult show he'd ever watched, and he loved it all the same.

Lying in front of the TV with a mug of hot chocolate was something he'd done countless times as a child, but he'd never stopped to appreciate the simpleness of it before. Because being a child was _simple_. He wouldn't go as far as to say it was _easy_ ; being a shrimp was inconvenient as heck. But it was simple, the kind of simple that adolescence never was, and he had never realised how much he missed that simpleness before now.

Simple as his life was now, it was anything but productive. A week had passed since Kaito had shrunk, and he'd accomplished a total of nothing. Nada. Nil. Zilch. Well, nothing relating to his "condition" at least. He'd watched the entire first and second seasons of Kamen Yaiba and three-quarters of the third, drank about twenty mugs of hot chocolate, read the Sherlock Holmes series twice and perfected three new card tricks, but still knew nothing by way of his shrinkage.

It was frustrating, but at the same time, relaxing—because as much as he wanted his old body back, he liked being a child.

* * *

It would be an understatement to say that Aoko had been surprised when she heard that Hakuba was caring for a child. She had been shocked, amazed, astonished, flabbergasted —every synonym in the dictionary—because while Hakuba acted perfectly polite and nice, he also seemed a little arrogant and self-centered. He definitely didn't seem the sort to take in a lost child.

After the initial shock had worn off, excitement rushed in to take its place. Aoko loved children. She loved their sweet little smiles and their cute little hands and their tinkly little laughs. She'd always wanted a little brother or sister, and her parents had wanted another child too; then her mum had died, and those dreams had flown out the window...

But she couldn't dwell on the past, or she'd only end up upsetting herself. If she couldn't get a younger sibling of her own, she'd just have to find one.

Of course, so far she'd only heard rumours, and who knew how accurate they were. So, bursting to the brim with purposeful determination, she approached Hakuba after the final class of the day to confirm the truth.

"Hakuba-kun!"

Hakuba glanced up at her, then down at his watch. "Aoko-kun," he acknowledged. He was tapping his foot in a display of impatience, arms folded. "Look, I apologise, but I really don't have time to chat right now. Baaya is still visiting her grandchildren, so Kai-kun is home alone. I hate leaving him for longer than absolutely necessary, since he's only a child-"

"So it's true?" Aoko blurted, blushing when Hakuba looked at her questioningly. "I mean, I'd heard rumours that you took in a child, but I wasn't sure, so... Could I maybe meet him?"

"You'd like to meet Kai-kun?" Hakuba repeated, raising one arched eyebrow.

Aoko nodded eagerly. "Please!"

"Well..."

"Pretty please! I've always wanted a little brother or sister! It's been my dream for years!"

Hakuba seemed to search her face, his expression uncharacteristically uncertain. Then he sighed. "All right."

Aoko felt a surge of happiness bubbling inside her chest, her heart threatening to implode from how fast it was throbbing. "Really?" she breathed. "I can meet him?"

"Why not?" Hakuba replied. "I'm sure Kai-kun would like you."

Aoko would have jumped for joy and possibly even done a little happy dance, had Hakuba not been watching her with those hawk-like golden eyes. The other students had long since left, so at least her audience wouldn't have been too large if she hadn't been able to contain herself. "You mean that?"

She _had_ to make a good impression on Kai. If Kai liked her, then maybe Hakuba would agree to let Aoko take care of him instead. Then she could be a big sister, just like she'd always longed for.

"Aoko-kun?" Hakuba's accented voice interrupted her giddy thoughts, his frown audible in his voice. "Would you happen to know Kuroba-kun's whereabouts? Considering he hasn't been at school all week, nor has he informed the school of any illness or emergency."

The euphoria bubbled away to a low simmer as heavy worry took the reign. She'd been trying to keep thoughts of Kaito's disappearance out of mind, but now that he'd been missing seven days, it was getting harder and harder to ignore his absence. "Kaito... I—I don't know. He hasn't called me. I tried calling him, but I think his phone was either off or out of battery. It just went to voicemail." She bit her lip. "Should we—should we call the police?"

Hakuba hesitated briefly, before giving a curt nod. "Yes," he decided. "I'm going to file a missing person report."

* * *

"Saguru-oniisan!"

The moment Hakuba pushed open the front door to his western-style home and stepped inside, he was greeted by Kai's frantic yelling and the familiar sound of the Kamen Yaiba theme song blasting from the television. Since Kai had moved in, Kamen Yaiba had almost become background noise—the younger boy spent about 90% of his time awake glued to the TV, marathoning episodes. Hakuba had lost count of how many seasons Kai had watched so far.

Behind him, Aoko gazed at the house in awe, mouth hanging open. Her amazement at the sheer size of the house added to her excitement at meeting Kai appeared to have pushed thoughts of Kuroba's disappearance out out of her mind, which gladdened Hakuba greatly. Seeing the pretty, bubbly brunette looking so anxious made him hate Kuroba even more than he had before, if that was even possible. Hopefully, Kai would be able to cheer her up.

"Kai-kun! Where are you?" he called, despite already knowing exactly where the child would be—in the living room, watching Kamen Yaiba.

"Here!" Sure enough, Kai's voice sounded from the living room, strangely urgent. "Hurry! Hurry up and get your butt in here!"

Aoko's jaw seemed to drop further at Kai's impudent manner of speech. Hakuba just shrugged it off. By now, he was used to it. Kai usually did try to be polite; he just tended to forget.

Hakuba beckoned Aoko to the living room, and they both stepped inside.

Kai was curled up on a squidgy black bean bag that he'd found in one of the guest rooms—he seemed to adore that bean bag, Hakuba had noticed, and refused to sit anywhere else— a mug of hot chocolate, heaped with whipped cream and pink and white marshmallows, by his side. He was wearing a black hoodie that swamped his tiny frame, and a pair of fluffy white and pink bunny slippers (where he'd found them, Hakuba had no idea). His indigo eyes tore away from the television to gaze desperately at Hakuba.

"They're holding a Kamen Yaiba contest!" he said, pointing to the television. "We have to answer a quiz about the shy, and the first 500 people to get all the questions right get tickets to the Kamen Yaiba festival in Beika!" He clasped his hands together in a pleading gesture. "Can I enter? I need parental permission."

Hakuba frowned. "Kai-kun, this Kamen Yaiba obsession of yours is unnatural. I'm reluctant to encourage it."

Kai's face fell, and for a second Hakuba thought he might give up without a fight. That was just wishful thinking, of course, and Hakuba should have known it. Even after only knowing Kai for just over a week, he could tell that the child wasn't one to give up easily.

Launching himself at Hakuba, Kai latched onto his legs—tight. "Pleeeeaaassseee! Saguru-oniisama, please let me enter! I wanna gooooooo!"

Hakuba shook his legs in an attempt to break free, but Kai had a grip like a vice, and remained firmly clinging to his shin.

"Saguru-oniisama! Pleeeaaasssee! I'll do anything!"

"Let him have his fun, Hakuba-kun. If he likes Kamen Yaiba, he should be allowed to enter."

Kai froze upon hearing Aoko's voice, his grasp loosening enough for Hakuba to shake him off. Aoko stepped out from where she had been obscured from Kai's view by the door.

"So this is Kai-kun? He's so cute!" She knelt down. "Can you take down your hood, Kai-kun? I'd really like to see your face."

Kai leapt to his feet, stumbling out of Aoko's reach. He was trembling, trying to pull his hood down further, as if to hide his face. Hakuba stared. It hadn't occurred to him that Kai might be shy. He'd always acted so outgoing in Hakuba's company, if not a little boisterous and impolite. He'd assumed that Kai would be the same for other people.

Aoko seemed surprised by Kai's sudden shyness, but laughed. "Well, if you want to keep your hood down, you can. I won't force you to do anything you don't want to." She removed her cellphone from her pocket and typed in her PIN. "You can enter the competition online, right? I have data. Why don't we enter right now?"

Kai seemed to hesitate, one hand hovering halfway to the phone, before quickly taking the mobile device and starting to tap away at the keyboard. Ten minutes later, he handed back the mobile.

"Are you finished already?" Aoko asked in surprise.

Kai nodded silently, tugging down his hood again, refusing to meet Aokos gaze.

Aoko frowned, crestfallen. Then, her face brightened. "Hey, Kai-kun, do you need any new clothes? I could take you clothes shopping, if you like."

Kai didn't reply.

Aoko's lip wobbled. By her side, her fists clenched.

"I'm sure Kai-kun would love to," Hakuba cut in, desperately wanting to avoid a tearful situation. "Wouldn't you, Kai-kun?"

Kai shot Hakuba a baleful glare far too fierce to belong to a six-year-old, and Hakuba shuddered despite himself. Kai and Kuroba shared so many mannerisms and idiosyncracies that it was scary. They even looked similar, having the same intelligent yet lively indigo eyes and dark birds' nests for hair (Kai's mop of brown hair was utterly untameable, and Kuroba probably didn't even bother with such trivialities as hair-brushing). But Kai was a child, Hakuba had to remind himself, and Kuroba was seventeen, like Hakuba himself. It wasn't like Kuroba could somehow de-age himself. That would most likely eradicate multiple laws of physics.

But even so... if Kai were Kuroba...

Hakuba shook his head to clear his thoughts. The sheer idea was ludicrous. Laws of physics aside, if he and Kuroba were lived under the same roof, Hakuba wouldn't be able to bear it. Kuroba would inevitably drive him insane with his immature, obnoxious, devil-may-care attitude, and it would most likely end with one of the two (almost certainly Hakuba himself) locating the nearest window and promptly defenestrating themself.

Inwardly feeling assured that Kai and Kuroba were not one and the same, Hakuba ignored Kai's sullenness, nudging the boy in Aoko's direction. "Go."

Kai reluctantly obliged.

* * *

 _I'm not actually sure what pairings will be in this fic, if any. If you have any suggestions for pairings, feel free to leave a review._

 _I know Hakuba seems a little OOC, but I wrote him this way deliberately. I personally think the reason Hakuba's personality is shown as so arrogant and haughty is because in practically all of his appearances in the anime/manga have been when either Kaito or Hattori were present. I feel that he would drop his arrogant airs and graces when speaking to a child._

 _Anyway, until next chapter._

 _\- Violet_


	4. Shy Little Kai

_Disclaimer: I don't own DCMK._

 _You meet someone very, very special in this chapter... yep, you guessed it! Our favourite shrunken detective makes an appearance!_

 _Oh, and I'm not going to focus much on romantic pairings in this fanfic, but I will drop hints for various ships so take those hints whichever way you please._

 _Anyway, hope you like it!_

* * *

Kurosawa Kai, Aoko discovered, was more than a little shy.

Despite having reluctantly agreed to let her take him shopping, Kai had refused to remove his hoodie and try on any clothes, and even after an hour and a half of shopping, had only chosen five items to buy.

To Aoko's mild horror, Kurosawa Kai was also a fan of the most irritating, outrageous, _insufferable_ human being ever to exist in any universe _ever_ —namely, Kaitou Kid. All five of the items Kai had picked were Kaitou Kid themed—a matching white rucksack and stationary set dotted with miniature Kid doodles, a t-shirt with Kid's smug face printed in manga-style on the front, a black denim jacket with a Kid doodle in white on the chest pocket, and a black hoodie with the words 'It's Showtime!' displayed across the front in Kid's signature scrawl. Aoko very nearly commented on Kai's disdainful choice in idols, but stopped upon seeing Kai's expression. As he gazed up at Kid's smirking face on the store display's signboard, Kai's expression was so… wistful, almost, as if he were thinking of something he'd lost.

Aoko didn't have the heart to comment after that. Kai could like what he liked, no matter how insufferable the object of his admiration was.

After a long half hour of gentle coaxing, Aoko finally managed to convince Kai to buy enough non-Kid-themed items of clothing to fill a kiddy-sized wardrobe. Admittedly, most of those items of clothing were either Kamen Yaiba or Gomera themed—but hey, it was progress!

At least Kai had opened up a little when Aoko agreed to buy him an ice-cream sundae in the store café. He was answering in full sentences now, instead of the single word replies he had previously limited himself to. He also appeared to have a healthy appetite.

And by 'healthy appetite', Aoko meant 'an elephant probably ate less than this child'.

"So, Kai-kun," Aoko said, prodding at her own dessert, a plate of rose pink macarons decorated with icing flowers, "why did you start staying with Hakuba-kun?"

Kai stopped shoveling ice-cream into his mouth for a second, consideration in that precocious gaze of his. At some point, he had forgotten to keep pulling down his hood, and Aoko had gotten a glimpse of his eyes; a unique shade of indigo that Aoko had only ever seen in one other pair of eyes.

Kai's eyes were the exact same colour as Kaito's.

The realization made Aoko's heart sink. Kaito still hadn't returned home. The jerk hadn't even bothered to leave a message saying where he'd gone. A traitorous part of Aoko's mind whispered, "Perhaps he's dead. You might never see him again." Aoko suppressed those thoughts. Right now, she was tending to a timid child who was the polar opposite of Kaito—sweet, shy, quiet, reserved—and she had to give him her full attention.

"S-Saguru…" Kaito swallowed, appearing to gag a little—whether that was on his words or the ice-cream, Aoko couldn't tell. He quickly jammed some more ice-cream into his mouth. "Hakuba-oniisan took me in after Okaasan and Otousan died." His voice was quiet and velvet soft and barely reached Aoko's ears over the cacophony of the café.

Aoko blinked, dropping her fork. Kai's parents were dead? He was so young. Aoko wondered if he had been old enough when they'd passed away to remember them, but didn't think it right to ask. "I'm sorry."

Kai shrugged, shook his head, and continued eating. That was how Kai was. He didn't speak unless he was spoken to, and even then he didn't elaborate. He had a secretive personality, and no matter how many questions Aoko asked him she never managed to get straightforward answers.

"Do you like staying with Hakuba-kun?" Aoko tried.

Kai turned to gaze out the window, and Aoko caught another glimpse of those striking indigo eyes. "Hakuba-oniisan is nice to me," was his curt reply. Not an answer, but a question-dodger. Did that mean Kai _didn't_ like staying with Hakuba? Maybe he just hadn't gotten used to it yet. But if Kai didn't want to stay with Hakuba, then…

"Would you like to come live with me, Kai-kun?" Aoko blurted.

Kai promptly fell off his chair.

"I'd be happy to take you in," Aoko rambled. "I've always wanted a little brother or sister. My otousan's really nice, I swear, even if he is a little loud, and we could decorate the guest room for you to stay in, and–" By this point, Kai's eyes were wide with something that could have shock, or horror, or maybe even both. Aoko was beginning to regret asking. Kai hated her, didn't he? He hated her, just like everybody else in the class. Because that was why she didn't have any friends other than Kaito or Keiko, wasn't it? Because everyone else in the class thought she was dumb and shy and nowhere near pretty enough and–

"Oi, Kudo! 'Neechan!" Aoko gave a start. Temporarily forgetting her moment of self-hatred, she turned to look at whoever had yelled. Waving directly at her—wait, at _her?_ —was a tall, dark-skinned boy, about her age, accompanied by a lighter-skinned, ponytailed girl.

Aoko pointed at herself. "Me?"

The boy stopped beside her, leaning over her table. "Who else would I mean?" he asked. He spoke in thick Kansai-ben, Aoko noticed. Osaka, maybe? "Me and Kazuha were in Beika for the weekend. We thought we'd stop by later today, but we weren't expecting to find you guys here."

Aoko glanced at Kai, and was reassured to find that he looked just as confused as she felt. "Um… I think you've got the wrong person," she said. "I'm not this 'Neechan. My name's Nakamori Aoko."

The girl blinked. "That's impossible," she said. "You look just like Ran-chan!"

"I–I do?"

"That's ridiculous," the boy scoffed. "What are the odds of someone looking just like 'Neechan? She must be playing a trick on us. Well, we aren't going to fall for it!"

"No, really, I mean it–"

"Heiji, I think she's telling the truth..."

"Don't you fall for it, Kazuha. Just ask Ku–Ku–Ku–Conan-kun here. He'll tell you." The boy, Heiji, jabbed a thumb in Kai's direction.

Kai's hood had fallen down in his tumble, revealing a small, cute face framed by a mop of dark brown hair. It struck Aoko as incredibly familiar, as if she'd seen this face before, many years ago. And she _had_.

That face was undeniably Kaito's.

Well, not exactly Kaito's _now_. But Kai looked almost exactly like Kaito when he was younger; only Kai looked infinitely smarter and more serious. _Could he be…? Could he possibly be…?_

Kai was staring Heiji down, those indigo eyes of his wide. "Conan?" he echoed. "You know a boy called Conan?"

"Huh?" Realisation dawned in Heiji's eyes. His mouth fell open. " _Oh._ "

"See!" Kazuha said, poking Heiji in the chest. Heiji shot her an irritated glare that did nothing to deter her from complaining. "I told you she wasn't Ran-chan!" She turned to Aoko and bowed apologetically. "I'm so sorry, Nakamori-san. Heiji here is a complete ahou. I apologise on his behalf."

"Who are you calling an ahou?" Heiji snapped.

"You. You should check before yelling stupid things!"

"It's not my fault she looks freakishly like 'Neechan!" Heiji protested. "And look! Even the kid looks like Ku–Conan-kun!"

Kazuha peered closely at Kai, who in turn blanched and shyed away, tugging his hood back over his hair. His indigo eyes disappeared beneath the black swathes of fabric, alongside the last glimmers of his and Kaito's strange resemblance. "He does, actually! He must have one of those faces."

 _One of those faces…_ Aoko breathed out. She was overthinking things. Kai just had a generic face, she supposed. Yet those eyes…

What an idiot she was, thinking that maybe Kaito had shrunk or something. Shrunk! She mentally kicked herself. It sounded like something straight out of one of those mangas she read but would never admit she liked.

"This Conan-kun…" Kai ventured. "His full name wouldn't happen to be Edogawa Conan, would it? About yay high" –he held his hand just beside the top of his own head– "bespectacled, blue-eyed, incredibly violent?"

"Sounds about right," Heiji said. "D'ya know him?"

"Not exactly." Kai waved a hand vaguely. "I know _of_ him. Does he, by any chance, like Kamen Yaiba?"

* * *

Kamen Yaiba was the bane of Edogawa Conan's existence.

Actually, scratch that. _Kaitou Kid_ was the bane of his existence, the insufferable thief. But Kamen Yaiba was a close second. So no amount of begging was going to convince him to go to a _festival_ dedicated to the show.

"But Conan-kun, you have to enter!"

"If you don't enter, you can't win!"

"Don't you want to win?"

Conan burrowed his face further into his copy of _The Sign of Four_ and tried to ignore the various shocked cries emitting from the three loud-mouthed youths that called themselves the Detective Boys—a difficult feat, as said loud-mouthed youths were currently jammed inside Hakase's car alongside Haibara, Agasa-hakase, and Conan himself. There was no escaping their earsplitting yells.

Eventually, he gave up on trying to ignore them, throwing down _The Sign of Four_ (and immediately regretting it, because that book was A) a first edition, and B) his father's). "Look, I'm just not interested in going to a Kamen Yaiba festival, okay?" he said irritably. "Can't you enter on your own?"

Ayumi gazed at him with those big blue eyes that never failed to make him feel guilty. "But then it won't be a Detective Boys field trip!" she argued. "It won't be the same without you there, Conan-kun!"

Okay, so that may have touched Conan's heart a teensy bit (not that he'd ever admit it) but he wasn't about to let a seven-year-old's puppy dog eyes convince him to go to a Kamen Yaiba festival. He was stronger than that—he was Kudo Shinichi, the Heisei Holmes, the detective of the east, savior of the Japanese police force! He was not going to a Kamen Yaiba festival for kids.

Besides, as aforementioned, he despised Kamen Yaiba with all his being; a fact he voiced aloud.

"So you claim," Haibara said from where she sat to Conan's right, "but you don't really hate it, do you?"

"Ehhhh? What are you implying?" Conan hissed. "That I secretly like Kamen Yaiba? You're delusional!"

Haibara raised a skeptical eyebrow, her lips quirking upwards into that infuriating smirk of hers that almost seemed to taunt, _'I know something you don't'_ , but didn't reply. Conan opened his mouth to snap at her, but hastily closed it upon catching sight of Ayumi glaring at him. The younger girl really hated it when Conan "bullied Ai-chan". Ha. As if. Haibara was the real bully here and she knew it.

"So, are you not entering, then?" Mitsuhiko said with a frown. "We've already entered: Ayumi-chan, Genta-kun, Haibara-san and I. It's a shame if you don't enter as well."

Conan shook his head. "For the last time, I'm not entering and I am certainly not going. Besides, you haven't even won yet. How can you be so sure that you're going?"

"Because we're the Detective Boys, and we can do anything if we put our minds to it!" Ayumi said. "Right, Genta-kun, Mitsuhiko-kun, Ai-chan?"

The three real children cheered. "Hurray! We're going to the Kamen Yaiba festival!"

Conan smiled to himself, simultaneously glad the kids were happy, and relieved that he wouldn't have to go to the festival. Life was good.

* * *

Life was _not_ good.

Mitsuhiko had received a call from Hakase a few minutes ago, and judging by his concerned expression, whatever was being said on the other end of the line was _not good_.

"What? Haibara-san has a cold, Hakase?" Conan's ears perked up at that, his mouth falling open ever so slightly. Haibara was _never_ ill. She had the immune system of a crocodile. "Mm. No, it's okay. But that means that she can't come to the festival! O-oh yes. That's a good idea! Get well soon!"

Mitsuhiko hung up. "Haibara-san is unwell, so she can't come with us to the Kamen Yaiba festival."

"No way..." Ayumi said, disappointment evident on her face. "I hope she's okay! But…what do we do with her ticket? It'll be wasting if we don't use it. Some other kid could have gone to the festival!"

"About that," Mitsuhiko said. "Haibara-san said, 'Give Edogawa-kun my ticket. I'm sure he'd love to go in my place.' Oh, and she said, 'Have fun, Edogawa-kun'."

That evil, evil scientist.

Conan felt like slamming his head against the desk. Perhaps if he hit his head hard enough, he'd forget all about really being Kudo Shinichi, and actually be able to enjoy the childish form of entertainment that was Kamen Yaiba. How did children like the stuff? It was dumb. It was cheesy. The special effects were awful. The plotlines were worse. It was all in all quite possibly the worst TV show he'd ever watched, and every time the Detective Boys forced him to spend twenty long minutes of his time watching it, he felt like pitching himself off the nearest building.

And now he had to accompany them to a festival dedicated to the (second) bane of his existence.

He was beginning to wish the Apotoxin had succeeded in ending his life.


	5. Soulmates

_Disclaimer: I don't own DCMK. If I did, Conan and Kaitou Kid would team up more often, because their relationship dynamic is fabulous._

 _So, I haven't updated this in a month or so... which is ironic, because just last chapter somebody asked me about an updating schedule. I tend to just update when I finish a chapter, because I don't want to rush my writing. But, anyway, here it is! The chapter in which Edogawa Conan and Kurosawa Kai finally collide!_

* * *

It just wouldn't be a true Detective Boys field trip if somebody didn't drop dead.

The victim this time was thirty-five year old Miriam Romano, a half-Italian, half-American actress who had used her enormous wealth to fly her nine-year-old twin sons halfway across the globe—for the sole purpose of taking them to a tacky festival dedicated to a second-rate _tokusatsu_ show. Apparently, the twins were avid fans of the Kamen Yaiba English dub, and had begged their mother and father to take them to the event. Conan hadn't been aware that an English dub even _existed_ , but that was neither here nor there.

The husband, of course, was the main suspect, alongside the victim's sister and best friend. All three had accompanied her on her travels.

Would it be cruel to admit that he was glad that a case had occurred, Conan wondered? It wasn't like he was glad someone was dead, but it was a distraction at least—something to occupy his brain while the Detective Boys ran about like mad people, oohing and aahing at everything and anything they saw ("Look! Kamen Yaiba balloons!" "Over here! Kamen Yaiba socks!" "Hey, guys, look at this! That cloud looks sort of like Kamen Yaiba's head!"). In fact, he was about to charge onto the crime scene, screaming at the top of his lungs, "Save me from this torture! Please!" when a blond young man with foreign features walked up to the body and started to inspect it closely, as if it weren't the gradually-rotting corpse of a deceased human being. Irritation flickered through Conan's mind. Who did this guy think he was? He sure as hell wasn't a police officer —the victim had died mere minutes ago, and, as far as Conan knew, Division 1 were still making their way to the scene. That brief annoyance quickly faded, however, as Conan realised that he recognized the guy.

"Hakuba-san?" Conan slowed to a stop by Hakuba Saguru's side, unable to hide his surprise. "What are you doing here?"

The blond detective appeared equally surprised. "Edogawa-kun?" he said. "I haven't seen you since the Detective Koshien case. You were with that Osakan nitwit." His expression darkened, presumably at the memory of Conan's loud-mouthed friend Hattori.

Conan sweatdropped. "Um… back to the original question."

"Oh, right. I was here with my, uh… ward, and a murder happened to occur." He glanced up at the morbidly curious crowd that was quickly gathering around the corpse, brown eyes flickering about searchingly with a combination of anxiety and annoyance. "Speaking of my ward, where _has_ that boy run off to now? I hope Aoko-kun can keep up with him. He can be quite a handful sometimes."

"Your ward?" Conan repeated, momentarily forgetting the corpse lying a few feet away. "You have a child with you?"

"Indeed," said Hakuba. "Could this wait until later, Edogawa-kun? I'd like to finish this case quickly, before Kai-kun can run too far."

As it happened, the husband turned out to have been the killer. Something about needing the money in her will. Conan always hated cases like these, in which children were orphaned—both of the twins' parents were soon to be either incarcerated or deceased.

Hakuba was quick to abandon the crime scene. "I really must go, Edogawa-kun. I can't see Kai-kun or Aoko-kun anywhere," he said. A soft, frustrated sigh escaped his lips. "And to think I told them to wait nearby…"

Conan cleared his throat. "Hakuba-san, if you want, I could help you look for this Kai-kun."

Hakuba raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Wouldn't you rather join your companions on the bouncy castle?" he asked. "Searching for a runaway six-year-old won't be much fun, you do realise?"

Conan glanced back at where the Detective Boys were screaming and yelping as they ricocheted off the springy walls of a Kamen Yaiba bouncy castle. He shuddered. "I don't mind," he assured quickly. "I really, _really_ don't mind."

"Then, I'd be grateful for your assistance," Hakuba said. "Perhaps the input of someone closer to his age would be useful."

Conan inwardly chuckled. _If only he knew…_

They decided to split up to cover more ground, and exchanged numbers so that they could alert each other if the missing child was found. Hakuba quickly gave a description of Kai-kun ("Small, with dark, messy hair and an uncanny resemblance to you, in fact") and they went their separate ways. The first place Conan looked was the amphitheatre, where people were gradually trickling in to wait for some kind of Kamen Yaiba performance to start. He walked up and down every row, calling out Kai's name, but the search came up fruitless. Kai wasn't in the amphitheatre. Nor was he in the indoor play area. Nor the gift shop. Nor the food court. Nor – well, the point was, Kai-kun wasn't _anywhere_. Or at least, he wasn't in any of the four dozen places Conan had already looked. And Hakuba's texts were growing steadily more anxious.

An hour later and Kai was still unfound. Conan had long since stopped to take a break under a shady cherry blossom tree, and was considering giving up and going back to Agasa-hakase and the Detective Boys when a strange splintering noise, like the sound of fracturing wood, sounded from somewhere above his head. He glanced skywards…

…and was promptly crushed by something soft, child-sized and very, very heavy.

He spluttered and gasped, struggling out from underneath the fallen weight in search of oxygen to replace the air that had been knocked out of his lungs. Lungs partly refilled, he gritted out three firm words. "Get. Off. Me." Then, after a brief hesitation, he finished off with, "NOW," for good measure.

The weight crushing down on his chest lifted, and his lungs flooded with fresh, delicious air. "Oopsie daisy~" a sweet, childlike voice sing-songed. From somewhere above Conan's head, a finger prodded at his cowlick, and already Conan knew he hated this person with a passion. "Did I fall on you?"

"No, I just decided to lie down and take a nap underneath your fallen body," Conan replied snarkily. "Yes, you fell on me, asshole! What the hell were you doing up there, anyway? What kind of idiot–" Conan broke off upon laying eyes on the person who had quite possibly caused him permanent lung damage, an overwhelming sensation of guilt rushing in to replace the red-hot ember of anger. It was a young, sweet-looking child of about six, who shared a striking resemblance with Conan's child form. He had wide eyes the colour of blueberries, which were currently gazing, full of bewilderment, down at Conan. Conan felt horribly guilty—he'd yelled at a _kid_ , for goodness sake—for a total of about two seconds, until the child opened his mouth.

"I must be heavier than I thought I was, Cowlick-kun. You're looking pretty flat."

Conan just sputtered in response. "C-Cowlick-kun?" He paused for a moment, brain processing the rest of what the boy had said, before demanding, "Flat?"

The boy nodded emphatically. "See here? Your head looks kind of misshapen, like a rock, or a potato, or–"

"A _potato?_ "

"Yes. And your silly little cowlick is a tad squashed. Not that it can exactly be called _little_ —I've seen beach balls smaller than that thing. But it's definitely silly."

" _Squashed?_ "

"Yes. Are you going to repeat everything I say?"

Conan got to his feet, brushing the grime off of his jeans and rubbing at his sore arm. "First and foremost," he said, struggling to keep down his temper, "my cowlick is _not_ silly. Secondly, my head does not look like a rock or a potato or whatever. Thirdly– "

"You're Edogawa Conan, aren't you?" the child interrupted, eyes wide with excitement. "I heard Heiji-niichan mention you. He said you looked a lot like me. And you really do! We're like twins!"

"That's irrelevant. I–"

"Isn't it funny that we happened to run into each other here?"

"Run into each other? More like you _fell_ on me."

"Exactly! I fell on _you,_ of all people! That can't be coincidence."

"Actually, I was looking for y–"

Suddenly, the boy seized both of Conan's hands with his own and tugged him closer. "You do realise what this means, right? It means we're soulmates!"

" _Soulmates!?_ " Conan was more than a little alarmed.

"Yeah! Destined to meet and all that! Maybe we were twins in a past life!"

"You're kidding, right?"

" _Ehhhhh?_ Conan-chan, you wound me!" The boy clutched at his chest, as if he'd just been stabbed in the heart. "I wouldn't joke about a matter as important as destiny."

" _Conan-chan!?"_

"Are you stupid? Quit repeating everything I say, Cowlick-baka!"

"Cowlick-ba–? Why, you little–"

"Hey, Cowlick-baka, let's be friends," the boy chirped, squeezing Conan's hands so tightly that they went stark white. "We _are_ soulmates, after all. I'm Kurosawa Kai!"

"I'm going to have to decline your offer, Kurosawa-kun. I prefer to befriend people who aren't completely insane." With that, Conan tugged his hands free and speed-walked away from the madman that was his doppelgänger.

* * *

Conan relaxed against the back of his chair, grateful to be back at boring, simple old Teitan Elementary School, far, far away from Kamen Yaiba and Kurosawa Kai. Thoughts of the strange, bubbly six-year-old had been drifting in and out of his mind all weekend, ever since their not-so-normal meeting at the festival. He had completely forgotten to inform Hakuba that he had found his ward in favour of stalking all the way to the front entrance of the venue and taking the bus straight back to Beika Town.

Ran had been surprised, to say the least, to see him back so early, but, fully aware of Conan's intense dislike of Kamen Yaiba, hadn't asked for an explanation, which was fortunate. It meant Conan didn't have to explain about his infuriating and more than a little weird encounter with Kurosawa Kai.

Even so… Conan hoped he had gotten home all right. As much as the child was annoying, Conan didn't want anything bad to happen to him. He was just a kid, after all. He probably hadn't even realised that he was being an irritating brat.

That thought made Conan feel a little bad for rejecting Kurosawa's offer of friendship. He'd probably hurt the poor child's feelings.

Conan was torn from his thoughts by the sharp sound of Kobayashi-sensei clapping her hands together. "Class, does anyone remember the special announcement I made last week?"

Several hands shot up. "Yes, Maria-chan?"

Higashio Maria, a bespectacled girl with a Kansai accent, gingerly spoke. "You said there would be a new student, didn't you, Kobayashi-sensei?"

"That is correct! Well done, Maria-chan! You must have an excellent memory." Maria blushed and looked away. Kobayashi-sensei continued. "I'm sure you all know how nerve-wracking it can be to start at a brand new school, so I'd like you to make him feel very welcome, okay?"

The class cheered enthuasically. Kobayashi-sensei smiled. "You can come in now!" she called.

The classroom door swung open, and a small, dark-haired boy practically bounced inside. He stopped at the front of the class. The classroom fell quiet, the only sound being the murmuring of a few shocked students.

Ayumi leaned over to Ai's desk. "That boy looks just like Conan-kun!"

With a swift flick of his wrist, a pale yellow rose appeared in the hand of the messy-haired boy up front. The class oohed and aahed as the new student offered the rose (that had clearly been hidden up his sleeve) to Kobayashi-sensei, and then turned to face the class again.

A deranged grin worthy of the Chesire Cat himself nearly split the boy's face in two. "Hi, everyone! I'm Kurosawa Kai, junior magician extraordinare!"

Conan calmly got to his feet, informed Kobayashi-sensei of his sudden headache, and walked out.

* * *

Entering that classroom was quite possibly the most nerve-wracking thing Kaito had ever done—not counting the whole-poisonous-drug-being-forced down-his-throat-by-murderous-men-in-black fiasco, of course, because that had been the kind of scary that topped _all_ kinds of scary. As he walked in, Kaito half-expected Tantei-kun to leap to his feet, jabbing one child-sized finger at him, and yell for the world to hear, "That's not a real child! That's Kaitou Kid! Arrest him!"

It didn't happen, of course, but Tantei-kun's azure gaze followed Kaito closely from behind his glasses, as if he already knew that he wasn't a regular child. Perhaps it was a detective sixth sense. Perhaps he recognised Kaito as the kid he met at the festival. Or perhaps it was the fact that he was wearing a Kaitou Kid t-shirt and rucksack (Narcissistic? Check! Conspicuous? Check! Almost certain to blow his cover? Check and check!)

Kobayashi-sensei, was it? – was smiling kindly down at Kaito. Kaito was tempted to conjure up a rose to offer to her, but Tantei-kun's hawk-eyed gaze had been trained on him since he had first entered the room and it was putting him on edge. If the prodigy already suspected him, it wouldn't be at all smart to broadcast his magic to the world.

Kaito glanced out over the class. Twenty-seven pairs of wide eyes stared back at him. Apparently, it wasn't just Tantei-kun. For a brief moment, Kaito was unsettled. Had _all_ the children noticed that he wasn't really a child? Surely they couldn't have? Then, a girl with shoulder-length kept out of her face by a pink headband leaned over to the strawberry blonde girl a desk away and loudly whispered, "That boy looks just like Conan-kun!" and Kaito's worry dissipated. He let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding.

They were staring because of his uncanny resemblance to their genius classmate. Tantei-kun—or Cowlick-baka, as he was now nicknamed—probably just recognised from when they'd met him earlier that week. They hadn't figured out his secret yet.

Now that his anxiety had subsided and he was thinking clearly, Kaito realised just how paranoid he was being. De-aging was supposed to be impossible—someone as logical as Cowlick-baka wouldn't even _consider_ it as a possibility. He'd just dismiss Kaito as a strange kid.

This thought gave Kaito courage, and he spun around, covertly transferring a yellow rose from his sleeve to his hand. From an outsider's point of view, it would look to have appeared as if by magic.

The children gasped (save for Tantei-kun, who remained with his gaze fixated on Kaito, eyes widening with something like horror. Yep. Conan definitely recognised him). Kobayashi-sensei's eyes lit up with delight as she plucked the rose from his hand, and the way she smiled made risking revealing his identity seem somehow worth it.

Kaito smiled his friendliest grin at the class (which, unbeknownst to him, looked almost exactly like that of a deranged Cheshire cat) and perkily chirped, "Hi, everyone! I'm Kurosawa Kai, junior magician extraordinaire!"

Tantei-kun promptly fell out of his chair, mumbled something incoherent, and shuffled out of the classroom.


	6. A Not-So-Silent Examination

_Disclaimer: I don't own Detective Conan._

 _Another chapter! I've been pretty low on inspiration recently, so this chapter is mainly filler. Sorry 'bout that~_

 _But anyway, enjoy!_

* * *

"I'm concerned about you, Conan-kun. Are you sure you're all right? You still look quite pale, and just a moment ago you looked like you were about to throw up."

Conan shook his head. "I'm fine, Kobayashi-sensei. I was just overcome by a really bad headache. I had to leave the room. Though," he added hopefully, "I'd like to go home and rest. Preferably for the rest of the week. Or forever. Depending on how long Kurosawa stays here."

"As I thought, this is about the new student," Kobayashi-sensei said, and Conan flinched at having been caught out. Had he been that obvious? He really had to work on his subtlety. "Look, Conan-kun, I know Kai-kun looks a lot like you. More than a lot like you. You two could pass as twins." Conan frowned, remembering what Kurosawa had said just the other day:

 _"_ _Yeah! Destined to meet and all that! Maybe we were twins in a past life!"_

He shook his head in a futile attempt to clear his thoughts.

"But you have to understand that just because you look alike, it doesn't mean he's here to replace you." Wait... _what?_ "I know it must be hard for you–"

"Wait, Kobayashi-sensei, you've got it all wro–"

"–and I understand that you must feel threatened by Kai-kun's presence, but I can assure you that Kai-kun is in no way, shape, or form here to take your place. Do you understand?"

"Kobayashi-sensei, that's not... oh, never mind. Yes, I understand."

It wasn't like he could tell Kobayashi-sensei that the reason he was pretending to be ill was not, in fact, because he felt threatened, and was actually because Kurosawa Kai was obnoxious, loud, annoying, and quite possibly slightly insane. Well, he could, but he had a feeling the consequences would not be pleasant. Kobayashi-sensei would probably tell him off, and force him and Kurosawa to spend "bonding time" together in order to "sort out their differences"

Conan shuddered. No, the consequences would _not_ be pleasant at all.

"Good." Kobayashi-sensei smiled cluelessly. "Now, I want you to go back into that classroom and make friends with Kai-kun, okay?"

Conan shook his head again, more fervently this time. "I– I don't think I can do that," he said.

"Yes, you can, Conan-kun," Kobayashi-sensei said encouragingly. "Something tells me you and Kai-kun will make great friends. You have a lot in common."

"A lot in common?" Conan scoffed. What on Earth could he and _Kurosawa_ have in common? "Like what?"

"You'll have to find that out yourself, by talking to him, and making friends. Now, go talk to him."

"But–"

"No buts." Kobayashi-sensei's voice was suddenly firm, her arms crossed over her chest. She looked the epitome of a stern teacher. "Go make friends."

Conan opened his mouth to protest, before closing it dispiritedly. To be honest, he didn't have the energy to argue anymore.

Dejectedly, Conan followed Kobayashi-sensei back into the classroom. The moment he stepped inside, Kurosawa's blueberry gaze snapped over to Conan, and his face split into that infuriating Chesire cat grin. He waved from his new desk (which, to Conan's despair, was right beside his own) and called, "Conan-chan! I missed you!"

Kobayashi-sensei blinked. She looked to Conan inquiringly. "It sounds like you already know him," she noted.

"Unfortunately," Conan said with a sigh, "I do."

He sat himself down at his desk, and Kurosawa immediately started trying to get his attention with various imbecilic nicknames. "Hey, Conan-chan! Cowlick-baka! Soulmate-kun!"

"What do you want?" Conan hissed. Catching sight of Kobayashi-sensei shooting him a pointed stare, he sighed. "I mean, yes, Kurosawa-kun?"

"You don't have to be so cold and distant, Conan-chan," Kai said. "We _are_ soulmates, after all. Call me Kai."

"We are _not_ soulmates," Conan replied curtly.

"We are too," insisted Kai. "I mean, what are the odds of us looking exactly alike, meeting at the Kamen Yaiba festival, and attending the exact same school? It's destiny."

"That's bullshit." The words slipped out of Conan's mouth before he could stop them, and Conan quickly glanced over at Kai, hoping the younger boy hadn't heard. He mentally scolded himself; Kai was far too young to be hearing language like that.

Contrary to Conan's expectations, Kai didn't even seem surprised by Conan's display of inappropriate language. In fact, he seemed wholly amused by it.

"My, my, Conan-chan, such a young, sweet-looking child using such colourful language?" he practically trilled. "And here I was, thinking you were innocent."

Conan pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and his forefinger. He took a deep breath. "Shut up."

"Honestly, Conan-chan, I expected more from you," Kai continued. "You have to set an example for the other children, seeing as you're so much more mature than the rest of them." Conan's head swivelled around to face Kurosawa almost dangerously fast.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded. Kurosawa just laughed—he had a strange laugh, playful and syllabic, like a snicker at no one in particular—and surveyed Conan with those striking eyes of his. All of a sudden, they appeared far too mature for his face, and glinted with sharp intelligence. His lips curled into a knowing smirk, and he stretched his arms in a lazy, almost feline manner.

"I don't know, Conan-chan," he drawled, his tone silky smooth as molten chocolate. "Why don't you tell me?"

His posture relaxed, his indigo gaze softening back into childlike obliviousness. He beamed, as if he hadn't just had a personality 180º. "Hey, Conan-chan, let's be friends!"

"I'm fairly certain we've had this conversation before."

"Yeah, but last time you said no," Kai said, as if that nullified Conan's point. He turned enormous orbs the exact same shade of indigo as ripe blueberries on Conan, tilted his head, and smiled. "I'm going to keep asking until you say yes."

Conan glanced away briefly, before glancing back. Kai was still gazing at him, smile seemingly frozen on his face, eyes still wide and eerily unblinking. He reminded Conan of a porcelain doll; sweet, innocent-looking and creepy as anything. Swallowing—not nervously, because Conan was braver than that; he would not let a six-year-old freak him out—Conan inquired cautiously, "What if I never say yes?"

Kai just laughed, as if Conan had just suggested something ludicrous. "Didn't I say it before? We're soulmates. No matter how much you try to avoid me, we'll always be drawn to each other. So don't bother trying to escape your destiny, Conan-chan. You're stuck with me forever and ever and ever and ever…"

Conan suddenly felt a little dizzy.

In fact, the wave of nausea that overcame him was so severe that for a moment he didn't notice that Kobayashi-sensei had started distributing sheets until three sheets of stapled-together paper dropped onto his desk. Printed on them were rows of questions in enormous font. Question one—What is 9 x 7?

Even as Conan looked at it, it dawned on him what those sheets of paper were.

When Kobayashi-sensei clapped her hands together and announced that they would be taking a maths test so that she could assess what they had learned over the term, the entire class groaned—Conan included.

If Conan had to describe elementary school maths tests in two words, he would have chosen 'unbelievably easy'. That, or 'mind-numbingly boring'. Back when Conan had been Kudo Shinichi, high school detective, he had often (loudly and publicly) complained that the work he received in class was far too easy for his prodigious brain, much to the annoyance of his less-intelligent peers. Perhaps this was destiny's way of punishing him for being such an obnoxious braggart.

Well, he might as well get it over and done with. Maybe if he finished early, Kobayashi-sensei would give him a slightly more difficult extension task.

While passing by, Kobayashi-sensei whispered something to Kurosawa; something along the lines of 'don't worry if you struggle with any of the questions' or 'you'll soon catch up'. For some reason, Conan doubted that Kai needed much catching up. He could still recall that spark of intelligence in Kai's eyes with startling clarity.

Conan neatly jotted down the answer to question one and moved on to question two—150 - 75.

He groaned. Surely this was universally simple, even for six- to seven-year-olds?

Tapping his pen against his teeth, he continued answering questions. He answered questions two to fifteen in quick succession, his pen flying across the paper, then stopped to check his classmate's progress. Most of the children were still on either question one or two. Haibara was lazily making her way past question twelve, while Kurosawa was, surprisingly, only on question five. Which, though better than the other children, struck Conan as odd. He shook his head. He was overestimating the child's intelligence—Kai was younger than most of the children in their class. For him to be ahead of the other students was an accomplishment in itself. It wasn't fair to expect him to be some kind of child prodigy or something just because he had said something unexpected of a child his age.

Conan put his pen back to paper once more and sped through to question twenty-three. Just as he was about to answer that one as well, he froze, a strange, prickling sensation washing over him. He quickly glanced around; someone was watching him.

The culprit turned out to be closer than he'd thought. Kurosawa was eyeing him curiously, still on question eleven. Upon noticing Conan looking at him inquiringly, Kai raised an eyebrow. 'Question twenty-three?' he mouthed, his expression halfway between skeptical and impressed. 'Already?'

Conan coughed and looked away, shifting his arm slightly to hide his test from view. "You shouldn't look at other people's papers," he muttered haughtily. "It could be considered cheating."

Kurosawa twirled his pen thoughtfully, tilting his head ever-so-slightly in that strange way he so often did. It was an odd pen; brilliant white, and peppered with shards of pearly glitter. Perched at the very top was a button shaped like Kid's hat, and various playing card symbols patterned the barrel of the pen. Conan scowled. He had known just by looking at Kai's outfit that the child was a Kid fanatic, but, even so… it was hard to believe that this was _Hakuba's_ ward, of all people.

"You know," Kurosawa said, pressing his pen to paper, but not making any move to actually write, "talking during a test could be considered cheating too."

Conan didn't appreciate being outsmarted by a seven– no, six-year-old. Not at all. He shot Kurosawa a fierce glare, even as his cheeks slowly tinged pink, and opened his mouth to argue—but closed it immediately upon noticing Kobayashi-sensei eyeing him from the front of the class. She took a step towards him, then another, until she was right in front of his desk.

He half expected to be scolded for talking during a test, but Kobayashi-sensei just smiled and winked. She leaned down. "I'm glad to see you two are getting along," she said, her eyes sparkling, "but could you two save the talking for after class, please?"

Conan knew better than to argue.


	7. Kaitou Kid: Damsel in Distress

_Disclaimer: I do not own DCMK._

 _Okay, so I haven't updated in forever, and I'm sorry, okay? I've had exams recently, and writer's block has been being a nuisance. Also, let me say one thing: Over 100 favourites, over 100 reviews, over 200 followers? (Okay, so that was three things)_

 _What._

 _That's a ton of people, and I really appreciate everyone who left a favourite, reviewed or followed!_

 _Anyway, this chapter is the beginning of a side storyline, and it's Sonoko-centric! Because I personally think Sonoko's a really cool character._

 _I hope you enjoy!_

* * *

 ** _KAITOU KID – MISSING_**

 ** _By Hisakawa Shiori_**

 _Eighteen years ago, a mysterious phantom thief took Japan by storm. A master of illusions, a phantom in both name and nature, this new thief became widely known as Kaitou Kid. The public were thrilled by the presence of this thief; and who could blame them? A phantom clad in white who seized his target from right under the police's noses before disappearing into the night; a lawbreaker who put on spectacular shows for his audience, yet always returned what he stole—how could one not admire such a figure?_

 _However, after 10 years of successful thievery, the phantom the public adored so much abandoned his metaphorical stage, vanishing from the public eye without a trace. Fans all over the country were devastated to see him go. The police were furious, naturally; in their eyes, Kaitou Kid's capture was long overdue. The internet flooded with theories; some said he had retired, others claimed that he had died. Some even suggested that he had already been caught, but the police were keeping the fact hidden for some reason. But in the end, nobody knew._

 _Only very recently did Kid finally emerge from his eight year hiatus, as talented as ever. But it appears that Kid is about to fade into obscurity once more._

 _It has been five weeks since Kaitou Kid's last heist. Despite multiple exhibitions having been held this month for several rather large and valuable jewels, we have heard nothing from him. I was fortunate enough to be able to speak with the head of the Kaitou Kid Task Force, Nakamori-keibu, who says, "The damn thief has never been quiet for this long. I reckon he's either realised the severity of his night job and chickened out, or something's happened to him."_

 _Could Nakamori-keibu be right? Will Kaitou Kid be hanging up his costume for good? Or has something happened to render him incapable of performing heists?_

 _Either way, it appears our beloved phantom thief has finally made like the phantom he is and disappeared._

* * *

To say Suzuki Sonoko was mad would be an understatement.

In fact, to say Suzuki Sonoko was _furious_ would still be an understatement.

Words could not describe how angry Suzuki Sonoko was. The English textbook in front of her lay unopened on her desk, her rotten mood overwhelming any and all thoughts of learning. Her education could wait until her darling Kid-sama returned.

"Suzuki-san!" Sonoko was startled out of her bitter fuming by her completely unthoughtful jerk of a (really hot) English teacher. "Since you're _clearly_ paying close attention, translate the English sentence on the board to Japanese."

Sonoko glared at him. He really was attractive, she pondered. It was a pity he had such a bad personality. "It says, 'Next Tuesday, I will go shopping'."

The jerk who dared call himself a teacher couldn't hide his shock, and a smile crept onto Sonoko's face. People often assumed that her insane wealth and boisterous manner of acting equated to stupidity. Those people obviously weren't aware of the intense tutoring she'd received as a child courtesy of her uncle Jirokichi—he had no children, meaning Sonoko was the heir to his company, and Jirokichi insisted that she had to be educated.

"That is… correct, Suzuki-san." Attractive-Jerk-sensei coughed and hurriedly scrawled another question on the blackboard. "Mouri-san. Translate this sentence into Japanese."

What, now he was picking on Ran? What a total jerk!

"M-me?" Ran pointed at herself, her lavender eyes widening in shock. "Um… It says, uh… I…I am– I mean, I am not? Uh, I mean…" Sonoko briefly thought on how pretty Ran was—even as she steadily went fire engine red with every word she stammered out—with her long tresses of chestnut brown hair, flawless complexion and gentle smile. If Sonoko wasn't such a gracious, considerate person, and if Ran hadn't been so deserving of her beauty, Sonoko might have been envious. But she wasn't, because, although Ran was quite possibly the most beautiful person Sonoko knew, she also had the best personality out of anyone Sonoko knew.

Apart from Sonoko herself, of course.

Anyway, all this talk of beauty inside and out was irrelevant. The point was, Attractive-Jerk-sensei was being an attractive jerk to Sonoko's best friend ever, and, being a firm believer in justice (that was quite possibly the only thing she and Ran's detestable husband had in common), Sonoko was not going to stand for it.

"It appears you weren't listening either, Mouri-san. I must say, I'm disappointed. I didn't think it was possible to be a worse student than Suzuki-san here."

Oh no he _didn't_.

Sonoko was on her two designer-shoed feet in a flash. "Attractive-Je– I mean, Hashimoto-sensei!" Attractive-Jerk-sensei, who had been steadfastly ignoring Sonoko's death glares up until this point, apparently found that he couldn't ignore this interruption to his (crappy) lesson.

"Suzuki-san," he sighed, bringing one hand to his face to push his glasses up the bridge of his perfectly-formed nose. "What do you want?"

"I, Suzuki Sonoko, demand that you put a stop to this injustice!" Sonoko declared, flipping her hair, the pinnacle of sophisticated justice. To her right, Ran frantically shook her head and mouthed desperate pleas at her to stop. Sonoko ignored her. Ran had never been as justice-minded as her two best friends, and had always shyed away from confrontation. Sonoko wasn't about to let her sit back and allow Attractive-Jerk-sensei to treat her like crap.

Sonoko raised her hand up high, before bringing it down to point directly at Attractive-Jerk-sensei, the same action she'd seen Shinichi do while accusing the culprit of a crime, but would never admit she'd copied from him. "Ran and I are both fabulous students. If you do not cease your bullying immediately, I shall be forced to report you to the headmaster!"

That was how Sonoko and Ran ended up with cleaning duty after school.

"This is so unfair it's unbelievable," Sonoko complained, idly swiping at the floor with a mop. She hadn't really done very much cleaning at all, and felt a little bad that Ran had to do all the work, but it wasn't like it was her fault. Ran's dad was useless at housework, so she was used to cleaning. Sonoko had maids for that kind of stuff. Housework was a foreign concept to her. "I mean, didn't they always teach you to stand up to bullies and stuff? Why did I get punished for fighting for justice?"

Ran merely sighed as she wiped down the blackboard with a damp cloth. "Because the person you were standing up to was a _teacher_ , Sonoko," she said.

"Hmph. Teacher or not, he was still a bully. And why'd you end up on cleaning duty too? You literally did nothing wrong. Not that I did anything wrong either, but still."

Ran didn't reply, so Sonoko decided to fill in the unnatural quiet with ranting. "I mean, what kind of teacher punishes a student for doing _nothing_? A crappy teacher, that's who. Attractive-Jerk-sensei is probably the worst teacher I've ever had. EVER. I can't believe we have to stay behind after school, though. I have stuff to do, you know? Important stuff."

Ran glanced at Sonoko, interest evident in her eyes, and Sonoko grinned with glee at having caught her attention. Sonoko lived for attention; being ignored just wouldn't do. Besides, she needed someone to listen to her ranting. "What kind of important stuff?"

Sonoko cleared her throat and mentally debated on the most dramatic way possible to announce her plan. She eventually decided on hopping atop a nearby desk, making an extravagant sweeping gesture with her arms and declaring at a volume that would make any stage performer envious, "I am going to find Kid-sama!"

Ran stopped her cleaning for a moment to gaze sceptically at Sonoko. "Um…you are?"

"That's what I just said, isn't it?" Sonoko jumped down from the desk, grateful that she was wearing school uniform compliant flats or else she would probably have broken an ankle. Or quite possibly both. Which would be a total disaster, because if she couldn't walk, she definitely couldn't find her idol. "I'm going to find a way to contact Kid-sama, and I'm going to rescue him from peril."

"Peril?" Ran blinked, a bewildered frown curving her lips. She put down the damp cloth. "Sonoko, I don't really think Kaitou Kid is in trouble."

"He _is_ , Ran!" Sonoko insisted. "Why else would he stop his heists?"

"I don't know," said Ran, bringing an contemplative hand to rest against her cheek. "Maybe…maybe he just doesn't want to steal anymore. Maybe he wants to settle down and live a normal life and–"

"That's impossible! Kid-sama loves performing! Can't you see the passion in his eyes—well, eye, singular—every heist? In his every gesture, in fact? Like he loves magic more than anything else? He wouldn't just stop. Kid-sama's in danger. I know he is! I can _feel_ it in my heart!" She pressed a hand to her chest where she figured her heart was for emphasis.

"Sonoko…"

"Trust me on this one! I'm going to save Kid-sama, you just wait."

"I can't stop you from doing anything," Ran said. "You're your own person. I just don't want you to be disappointed if you don't find him, that's all."

"I _will_ find him. I _have to_."

"If you feel that strongly about it, then go for it." Ran smiled encouragingly. Sonoko beamed back. "But how do you plan on contacting a master phantom thief?"

"Well… to be honest, I haven't really thought that part through yet."

* * *

"I have come up with an ingenious plan to contact Kid-sama," Sonoko announced, the moment she sat down at their usual cafeteria table. Ran looked up from her vegetable _udon_ (Vegetable! How did Ran survive on that rabbit food?), inclining her head slightly.

"You have?"

"I have," confirmed Sonoko. She shovelled a spoonful of curry into her mouth and quickly swallowed. "It was obvious. The only way to contact a magician thief is by dove!"

Ran's chopsticks froze in midair. "By… dove?"

"Yes. All I have to do is locate one of Kid-sama's doves, tie a message to its leg and let it fly to its master!"

"Oh. Where do you plan on finding one of Kid's doves?"

"I thought of that too," Sonoko said. "You know how that four-eyed kid you live with is known as the 'Kid Ki—hey, don't look at me like that, I'm not going to get the brat involved. Well, Conan-kun is known as the 'Kid Killer', because he's the only person who's ever come close to catching Kid-sama, believe it or not. I figured that since Kid-sama thinks of him as his biggest rival, he must have doves spying on the brat, right? Look, I told you to quit glaring at me! All I have to do is follow Conan-kun around and watch out for doves!"

"You are _not_ stalking an elementary schooler," Ran said firmly, folding her arms across her chest.

"Why not? It's not like I'm going to hurt him or anything. He won't even notice I'm there. Pleaaaaassseee?" Sonoko pressed her hands together pleadingly.

Ran stared at Sonoko for a moment, before sighing. "You really are serious about this finding Kaitou Kid stuff, aren't you?"

"Well, duh!"

"Fine."

"Huh?"

"I said, fine. You can follow Conan-kun while searching for doves," said Ran. "But if you dare get Conan-kun involved with this, I'll… defriend you."

"You wouldn't dare."

"I would too."

"Would not."

"I refuse to stoop to your level of immaturity."

"And here I was thinking you were nice."

"Eat your curry, Sonoko."

"What if I don't want t–"

"EAT. YOUR. CURRY."

Sonoko jammed another spoonful into her mouth.

* * *

 _ **Operation**_ _ **White Wings**_

 _3:30 – Four-eyed brat is walking home from school with friends. He doesn't appear to have noticed me._

 _3:34 – Four-eyed brat and co. have swerved from their usual route and are now headed towards the park._

 _3:40 – Four-eyed brat and co. are playing football. Four-eyed brat and Headband-girl are currently winning. Girl-with-the-cute-perm is sitting out. My spying skills are impeccable as always._

 _3:42 – I haven't been noticed yet. Guess the four-eyed brat isn't as great a detective as he thinks he is._

 _3:44: MISSION ABORT! ABORT! I HAVE BEEN SPOTTED! I REPEAT, I HAVE BEEN SPOTTED! COMMENCING EMERGENCY RETREAT!_

 _Operation result: No doves. Conan-kun is freakily observant. I am not as good a spy as I thought I was._

* * *

The failure of Operation White Wings was disheartening, but Sonoko wasn't one to give up easily. She would just have to seek Conan's cooperation with the mission. Easier said than done.

"Ehhh?! What do you mean you won't help me?"

"I mean, I refuse to help you contact Kaitou Kid," Conan replied haughtily, adjusting his glasses. "I have no intention of aiding Kaitou Kid's rescue, nor do I believe that he is in any danger at all. And frankly, I don't care."

"No seven-year-old should know those words," Sonoko muttered, before saying, louder this time, "Come on, brat, don't be mean! I just need you to tell me if you see any doves, that's all! Besides, you're not helping Kid, not really. You're helping me! Don't you want to help your darling Sonoko-neechan?" Sonoko batted her eyelashes.

Conan just stared, unimpressed. "No," he said flatly. "Go away."

Sonoko ground her teeth, clenching her fists. Who did this kid think he was? "Oi, brat! Show some respect, why don't you?"

Conan shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets as he turned on his heel and started to walk off.

"Why, you little–" Suddenly, an idea struck Sonoko; an amazingly, brilliantly, fabulously, ingeniously _evil_ idea. It was at moments like this that Sonoko really admired herself for her cunning brain and charming aesthetics. "Brat," she called after him. Conan stopped in his tracks, as if sensing the malicious aura surrounding her, and turned.

"What?" he asked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "What do you want?"

"You already know what I want," drawled Sonoko, sauntering over to the younger boy and leaning down so that they were almost nose-to-nose. "I'm willing to strike a deal. You help me rescue Kid-sama and I won't tell Ran that you have a crush on her."

Conan's eyes widened in shock. _Bingo._ "W-what are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb, Conan-kun," Sonoko said, her lips curling into a catlike smile. "I know your little secret. If you want it to stay a secret, you'll cooperate."

Conan glared. Sonoko met his gaze and held firm. Eventually, Conan glanced away, his expression slackening with defeat. "Fine," he snapped. "I'll help you find a stupid dove. But I'm not helping you with anything else!" Then, under his breath, he murmured something like, "You're just as bad as Kurosawa."

"I do try," Sonoko said proudly. Then she frowned. "Who's Kurosawa?"

"None of your business."

"Awww, come on, brat. We're partners now. You can tell me."

"He's like a miniature you."

"Ooh, really? Can I meet him? He sounds cool."

"He's not."

"Oi. I take offense to that, brat."


	8. Everyone Loves Flowers (Even Co-chan)

_Yes, I know. I haven't updated in almost three months, partly because of school and stuff, but mainly because I am a procrastinating little worm. I have no idea why I do it either; I actually **like** writing, so surely it should be easier to sit down and do it, right? Well, my brain clearly doesn't agree with that rationalisation. To be honest, I think it just wants to spite me._

 _Anyway, I don't own DCMK. This chapter contains a lot of KaiConan bonding to make up for the wait, so hope you enjoy!_

* * *

From: Loudmouth

oi, brat

* * *

To: Loudmouth

What do you want.

* * *

From: Loudmouth

hey no need to b rude

* * *

To: Loudmouth

You know I'm in class right now, Sonoko. Go away.

* * *

From: Loudmouth

have u seen any doves? U promised u'd tell me if you did

* * *

From: Loudmouth

and thats Sonoko-neechan to you. Learn some respect

* * *

From: Loudmouth

i know u've read my txts don't pretend u haven't.

* * *

From: Loudmouth

QUIT IGNORING ME BRAT

* * *

To: Loudmouth

I toldyiy to sriop twxting me

* * *

From: Loudmouth

lol wut hppened 2 ur txting?

* * *

To: Loudmouth

I was trying to text you under my desk without looking so Kobayashi-sensei wouldn't see and confiscate my phone.

* * *

To: Loudmouth

Crap Kurosawa's looking over my shoulder. Yes. I see you there, Kurosawa. Trying to be subtle. Oi, quit grinning like that. Don't you know it's rude to read other people's messages?

* * *

To: Loudmouth

He just asked who 'Loudmouth' was.

* * *

From: Loudmouth

wat did u tell him

* * *

From: Loudmouth

WAIT U SET MY CONTACT AS LOUDMOUTH?!

* * *

To: Loudmouth

I told him the truth. That you're just some annoying girl Ran-neechan knows and I have no idea why you're texting me.

* * *

To: Loudmouth

And yes, I did.

* * *

From: Loudmouth

oh

* * *

From: Loudmouth

HEY WAIT

* * *

From: Loudmouth

WHAT DID YOU SAY ABOUT ME

* * *

From: Loudmouth

BRAT I SWEAR ONCE I GET MY HANDS ON YOU

* * *

From: Loudmouth

STOP IGNORING ME

* * *

From: Loudmouth

CONAN-KUN

* * *

From: Loudmouth

GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

* * *

Conan put his phone on silent, muting the angered girl's furious texts, and slipped it into his pocket. Turning to face the front of the classroom, he shot Kurosawa a miffed glare before gazing intently at the chalkboard, pretending to be focusing on the lesson.

"Hey, Conan-chan," Kurosawa whispered. Conan's pseudo-concentration didn't seem to put him off at all.

Conan felt his eye twitch. "What," he gritted out.

"You do realise that there's nothing on the board, right?"

Conan blinked. Now that looked, the board was completely free of chalk, Kobayashi-sensei nowhere to be seen. She must have been patrolling the room, assisting struggling students like she always did during Maths lessons. "Of course I did," he lied. "I'm not stupid."

Kurosawa just grinned knowingly in that annoying Chesire Cat way of his and twirled his Kaitou Kid pen around his fingers. Fortunately, he didn't remark on Conan's blatant lie, or else Conan might have actually thrown his maths book at Kurosawa's head. "Hey, do you reckon you did well?"

"What?"

"In the maths test," Kurosawa clarified. "Since we're getting our scores back at the end of the day."

"Oh." Conan glanced away. Obviously, being a high-schooler attending elementary school, he was going to get a high score—probably even a hundred percent. But he wasn't about to say it aloud, especially not to Kurosawa. "I think I did okay."

Kurosawa drummed his fingers against the desk, humming thoughtfully. He didn't say anything for a while, and for a moment Conan wondered if he'd forgotten to respond. But then Kurosawa replied with, "I'm sure you did."

Conan just stared. How was one supposed to reply to a statement like that? What did Kurosawa even mean by that? He sat there silently, inwardly cursing his horrific social skills and wishing Kurosawa weren't so cryptic, for a good few minutes; hoping that maybe Kurosawa might say something that he knew how to reply to.

Kurosawa didn't speak up again all lesson.

* * *

Conan passed the test with flying colours—full marks, not a single mistake. So did Haibara, of course; though, being Haibara, she didn't seem to care. Conan would have liked to say that he didn't care either, that he was far too old to be proud of acing a test written for elementary schoolers, but he couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride in his chest at his accomplishment.

It was ridiculous, he knew—but even so, the feeling refused to be squashed.

"Conan-kun! What did you get?" Ayumi snatched up Conan's test paper before he could even react to her presence, and scanned it inquiringly, easily dodging Conan's half-hearted attempts at grabbing it back. As her gaze drifted further and further down the page, her jaw gradually dropped lower and lower, and as she reached the end of the page, her eyes fell on the bold '30/30! Well done, Conan-kun!' Kobayashi-sensei had scrawled in the bottom left corner in crimson ink. "Ehhhhh?! No way! Conan-kun got full marks!"

In an instant, Mitsuhiko appeared at Ayumi's side like some kind of poltergeist, his own test paper in hand. "Let me see!" He seized Conan's paper in his other hand and studied them both carefully as he compared the two, his brow furrowing in disappointment. "So Conan-kun beat me again… I only got twenty-six out of thirty."

"Ayumi got twenty-three," Ayumi said, "and Genta only got twelve." She frowned dispiritedly. "We're not as smart as Conan-kun."

"Ah, wait, that's not–" Conan hesitated. He couldn't exactly tell the Detective Boys that he was older than them, so it wasn't fair to compare themselves to him. But he felt horrible for upsetting the children like this, unintentionally or not, so he had to say something. In the end he settled on, "Don't compare your scores to mine. You guys are smart. Twenty-six and twenty-three are both really good. And Genta… well, Genta tried."

"Oi!" Apparently, Genta had overheard that last part.

"Hey, Conan-chan, let me see your results!" A dark brown mop of hair bobbed above Mitsuhiko's shoulder, accompanied by the occasional flash of vibrant indigo. It took a moment for Conan to realise (to his great amusement) that Kurosawa had to balance on his tiptoes in order to peer over Mitsuhiko's shoulder, and he almost laughed aloud at his unfortunate height issues.

And then he remembered that Kurosawa was, in fact, taller than him, and the laughter promptly died in his throat.

He cleared his throat, mentally debating whether or not to be petty and take out his bitterness on Kurosawa. But Kurosawa's uncharacteristic silence had been worrying Conan all day, and the last thing he wanted right now was to risk ruining the younger boy's good cheer with his deadpan attitude.

"Wow, full marks! Conan-chan must be some kind of super-genius!" Kurosawa was saying, his eyes shining with awe. "And Mitsuhiko-kun almost got full marks too, and Ayumi-chan did so well!"

The two Detective Boys mentioned both brightened, their smiles widening with pride, and, though Conan couldn't have said exactly why he thought it, he suspected that Kai had been eavesdropping on their previous conversation, and had intervened to cheer the Detective Boys up.

It felt too much like Kurosawa was cleaning up after Conan's mistakes for his liking.

"Hey, Kai-kun, what did you get?" Ayumi asked eagerly. "Ayumi's wondering."

Kurosawa shrugged. "I did okay. I got nineteen right."

Conan's ears perked up. Somehow, the fact that Kurosawa had scored lower than both Mitsuhiko and Ayumi surprised him. Once again, he chided himself for expecting so much of one of the youngest members of the class for absolutely no reason.

Strange thing was, he couldn't help but think of Kurosawa as older than six.

He had no idea why. He just did.

Mitsuhiko considered Kurosawa's words for a moment, before saying reasonably, "Well, it's only your first day. I'm sure you'll do better next test, after you've been here a while, and been taught more."

"I suppose so," Kurosawa said, breaking out into his trademark cheerful smile again. "Hey, Conan-chan, it's home time now. Are you going to sit at your desk all day?"

Conan yawned. "I don't see why n–" He broke off with a strangled yelp as a firm pair of hands seized his arm and yanked him violently out of his chair. "Ow! What the–"

"Come with me," Kurosawa ordered. "We're going shopping." He glanced at Ayumi and Mitsuhiko and smiled sweetly. "Would you mind if I borrowed Conan-chan for a while?"

Conan mouthed desperate pleas at them, gesturing frantically. 'Save me,' he begged silently. 'Don't let him take me!'

Ayumi blinked, bewilderment evident on her face. "Uh… no," she said slowly. "Ayumi doesn't mind." The traitor.

"Okay, then, Conan-chan. Let's go!" Kurosawa cheered, dragging Conan out of the classroom.

Though Conan fought valiantly, Kurosawa's delicate appearance was deceptive. The boy had a grip like a vice, and Conan's childish body was weak. He had no choice but to allow himself to be tugged along by his energetic companion like a dog on a leash.

Kurosawa finally released him once they had stepped outside the school gates. "This way," he said, pointing down the street.

Conan sighed, adjusted his glasses, and followed.

As they walked, Kurosawa chattered on about nothing in particular—about his favourite colour (rainbow), and whether thieves were better than detectives (Kai insisted they were; Conan vehemently disagreed) and if Conan liked stag beetles (he did not) and did Conan know that the couple down the road had gotten engaged? (he hadn't).

Eventually, they stopped in front of a small shop. "We're here," Kurosawa announced, and Conan was almost surprised that time had passed so quickly.

He had to admit, spending time with Kai was never boring, despite his age. He had a clever, witty way of speaking and an undeniable charisma that kept people enthralled by his tales. He was perpetually cheerful (except when he wasn't) and had the kind of smile that simultaneously irritated you and brightened your day.

If only he didn't take pleasure in ruining Conan's mood, he'd be excellent company.

Conan glanced up at the store Kurosawa had dragged him to and raised an eyebrow. It was a pretty little building, painted in pastel greens and pinks, with delicate baby pink flowers in the window boxes. "A…florist?"

Kurosawa nodded. "I need to restock my rose collection," he said. "Besides, flowers are pretty. Everybody likes flowers. Even a grumpy-pants like you."

Conan bit back a retort and followed him inside, and Kurosawa went straight for the roses. He trailed his fingers along the petals, chewing his lip thoughtfully, his gaze almost gentle as he considered. He seemed to be deep in thought, and as Conan approached the younger boy from behind, he wondered whether to interrupt. "If you think too hard, you're going to wear yourself out."

"Huh?" Kai glanced up at Conan, blinking. "Oh. Yeah." He frowned. "I was just thinking."

"I kind of figured that," Conan said. "Is something wrong?"

Kai shook his head. "Not really. Just wondering what colour roses I should get. Usually I just get pink and yellow, but…"

"But what?"

"I think blue roses would suit you better."

Conan scanned his mental database for the meaning of blue roses.

Blue roses: mystery; unattainability; ambiguity

Conan plucked an electric blue rose from a nearby display and studied it carefully. He ran his fingers along the satiny, synthetic petals, twirling it around in his hand. "You think so?"

Kai smiled, ever so slightly. "I do."

They were both quiet for a minute, the bustling of people on the street outside and the low humming of the florist the only sounds to be heard. Then Kai spoke, his voice quieter than Conan had ever heard it be before. "My father was a magician."

Conan didn't know what he was supposed to say, so he didn't say anything.

Kai continued, refusing to look Conan in the eye, instead staring stubbornly down at the rose in his hands. "He died...i-in an accident. I mean, everyone says it was an accident, but...but…" He took a deep breath, visibly steeling himself. "But it wasn't." His voice cracked on the last syllable.

Conan was almost certain that Kai was crying, but he didn't look. He had a feeling that Kai wouldn't want him to see him during his moment of weakness. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It happened a long time ago, anyway."

"It can't have been that long ago. You're only six."

Kai looked at Conan a little strangely—and, as Conan had thought, his eyes were glistening with wet tears—before shrugging and looking away. "Yeah, sure. Whatever." He hummed, and plucked several roses from the display in front of him. "I think I'll go for pink and yellow. And blue, of course." He winked, before turning on his heel and skipping towards the florist at the till.

...what was that supposed to mean?

Conan was beginning to wish he had a Kai-to-English dictionary, because trying to decipher this boy's words and actions was like attempting to translating a foreign language you'd never heard before. It was next to impossible.

Children weren't supposed to be this complex, were they? The Detective Boys had always been rather simple-minded—not stupid, just simple. Everything they did had a clear motivation behind it, and they always spoke their minds. Understanding them was easy.

Kai was a whole different thing. One minute he was quirky and cheerful, and the next he'd have a personality 180° and become distant, reserved and utterly uncommunicative. And then moments later he'd return to his usual bubbly self and act as if nothing had happened.

He said things he didn't mean. He said things he did mean. He said things that didn't make sense. He said things that made slightly more sense. He said whatever he felt like saying and that confused Conan to no end.

There was no sense to him, no rhyme or reason, no pattern, no nothing; he was so unpredictable that even Conan had no way of telling what he'd do next.

And how was Conan supposed to act around a child like that?

They left the shop. Kai, seemingly his usual cheerful self once again, skipped on ahead, occasionally pausing briefly to gawp at something in a store window or point out a pretty leaf he'd found before continuing on his way.

Conan was finding it more than a little difficult to keep up with his pace. "Oi, Kai! Slow down, will you!"

Kai hit the brakes so suddenly that Conan worried that he might have done some damage to his internal organs. And, for the first time ever, Kurosawa Kai waited patiently for Conan to catch up.

It was official. The apocalypse was nigh.

When Conan finally caught up, he was greeted by a pearly-white toothy grin from the other boy. Conan wrinkled his nose. "What's up with y–ACK!"

His question was cut short when Kai threw his arms around Conan's neck and squeezed him. Tight. Now, some distant part of Conan's brain that wasn't dying of oxygen deprivation vaguely recalled comparing Kai's grip to a vice. In hindsight, that had been a flawed analogy.

Kai's grip was not like a vice. It was like a freaking boa constrictor.

It was sad how he never got to say goodbye to Ran, or even his parents. Hattori would be losing his best friend. The Detective Boys would miss him. Agatha-hakase would miss him. Even Sonoko would miss him a little, if only because he had promised to help her find Kid.

Haibara might miss him. Probably. Possibly. Maybe.

Okay, maybe not.

"Aah! Co-chan!" Sweet, blissful air flooded Conan's lungs once more as the six-year-old boa constrictor seemed to realise that he was close to murdering his only friend and released him. "Was I hurting you?"

"No," Conan replied. "You were only slowly strangling me to death. I'm fine, really."

"Oh. Okay then."

"Yes, you were hurting me!"

Kai laughed sheepishly. "Sorry, Co-chan. I was just really happy, is all." He tapped his chin thoughtfully with one finger. "Actually, this is the second time I've nearly suffocated you to death, isn't it? Remember, that one time I fell on you?"

Conan just grumbled a vague response. "Whatever. You get excited too often."

"I know, but…" Kai trailed off, shoving his hands into his jean pockets and kicking at the ground with his foot. He lowered his head and gazed down at the ground, looking almost shy as he murmured, "Co-chan called me by my first name. So I was really happy."

Conan stared at Kai for a minute, processing what Kai had just said. Then, his mouth twitched upwards into a fond smile.

Taking a step towards the other boy, he reached up and gently ruffled Kai's hair. "You're such a kid."

Kai grinned back, his eyes dancing with mirth. "And you're too much of an adult."

Conan couldn't stop the laugh that escaped his lips.

* * *

"Hey, Co-chan, let's be friends."

"I'm getting a sense of déjà vu here," Conan replied, licking at his vanilla ice cream. It was the kind of day that wasn't quite cold and wasn't quite warm, as if the weather itself were feeling indecisive. The leaves that blanketed the branches of the park trees were only just beginning to flourish, signaling the very beginning of summer. It certainly wasn't warm enough for ice-cream, but Kai had insisted.

"I always eat ice-cream after buying flowers," Kai had told him. "It's a tradition."

It sounded rather like a blatant lie, but Conan didn't feel the need to argue. If it made Kai happy, he wouldn't complain. They were only just beginning to somewhat get along, after all.

"Ha ha. Very funny," Kai said dryly. He sobered up. "Seriously though. It's lonely being the new kid. Everyone else already has their friendship groups."

"I'm sure they'd let you play with them if you just asked," Conan said.

"That's just it," Kai said, pursing his ice-cream smeared lips. "I don't want to play with them. You're the only one who seems to be anywhere near my mental age."

"Is that so?" Conan said, raising an eyebrow. "I find it slightly odd that you would say that, considering you have a mental age of about three."

"Hey! No need to be rude," Kai said. "And, FYI; it's three and a half."

Conan's lip twitched. "You're such a brat."

"Of course I am. I'm mentally three, after all."

"Three and a half," Conan corrected.

"Right. Three and a half."

"You have ice-cream all over your mouth."

"I do?" Kai swiped at his mouth with his sleeve, his gaze flickering upwards as he did so. He

blinked twice, before breaking into a smile, seemingly completely forgetting about his ice-cream stained mouth. He jabbed a finger in the direction of the trees. "Hey, look! A dove! Isn't it pretty?"

Conan's neck snapped around to face where Kai was pointing. "What?"

Just as Kai had said, a downy white dove gazed down at them, its head cocked inquisitively to one side in a manner reminiscent of Kai. Something glinted silver by its left foo—wait, was that a camera?

So Sonoko was right? Had Kid really trained doves to spy on him?

"That damn thief," he growled balefully.

Kai let out a peal of delighted laughter, clapping his hands together in a manner more fitting of the three-year-old child he was mentally than the six-year-old he was physically.

Whipping out his phone and shooting Kai a glare, Conan keyed out a quick text to Sonoko.

* * *

To: Loudmouth

Just to let you know, I found you a dove.

* * *

From: Loudmouth

WHERE R U TELL ME NOW

* * *

Chuckling at Sonoko's enthusiasm, Conan surveyed his surroundings, searching for a familiar landmark or street name.

* * *

To: Loudmouth

Near the place Ran-neechan gets her hair done.

* * *

From: Loudmouth

IM ON MY WAY STAY PUT

* * *

From: Loudmouth

DONT LET IT ESCAPE

* * *

Sighing in disgruntlement, Conan parked himself against a wall. "Looks like I'm going to have to wait for Sonoko," he muttered, before realising that Kai had likely heard and hastily tacking on a "-neechan"

"If you're waiting for someone, I'll wait with you," Kai offered, hopping over to stand next to Conan. "Since we're friends and all."

"I never agreed to that."

Kai ignored him. "So, who's this Sonoko-neechan you mentioned? Your sister?"

Conan choked on air. "What? No! No way!" Regaining his composure, he added, "I already told you remember? She was the one texting me in class. She's friends with Ran-neechan, the girl who took me in after...my parents left for America. She's obsessed with Kid, and since he hasn't had a heist in a while, she's taken to hunting down doves to try and 'send him a message'." He laughed. "Pretty stupid, right?"

Kai didn't laugh, instead gazing up at the dove thoughtfully. "Not stupid—interesting. I think I'd like to meet this Sonoko-neechan."

Conan said nothing. Not knowing what to say to Kai was quickly becoming a regular occurrence.

"So, what's she going to do if she contacts Kid?"

"I have no idea," Conan said. "To be frank, she probably hasn't planned that far ahead."

Kai made an odd humming sound. They slipped into a comfortable silence.

A sleek silver car drew up to the curb fifteen minutes later, and Sonoko stepped out. She was wearing a fancy red dress, and her hair was pinned up into a strange, complicated-looking bun, as if she'd just come from a formal event (and she probably had). Her gaze fell on Conan, and she stormed up to him, her heels clacking angrily against the pavement.

"Where is it?" she demanded. "Tell me. Now."

Conan merely pointed as Kai looked on in barely-concealed amusement. Sonoko stared up at the dove for a second or two, before turning to Conan again. She rummaged inside her handbag, taking out a scroll of baby pink paper attached to a hot pink string. "I need you to tie this to its leg."

Conan's mouth fell open. "What? No! You do it! You're the one that wants the stupid dove!"

"The dove is hardly stupid, Co-chan," Kai cut in. "In fact, I'd say it's pretty intelligent."

"Have you seen my heels?" Sonoko said. "I mean, they're super cute and all, but they're huge. I'll sprain my ankle at least, maybe even both, and then you'll feel bad, won't you? I bet I could get Ran to side with me if I told her you made me climb a tree in heels. I mean really–"

"Fine!" Conan snapped. "I'll do it. Sheesh, could you be any less annoying?"

"You'd better watch watch you say to me, brat, unless if you want Ran to hear about this. You're lucky I'm so nice; if I weren't the angel I was, I would have already told her about your mushy feelings for her–"

Kai's eyes went wide.

"Sh-shut up!" Conan could feel his cheeks go red hot, and internally cursed Sonoko for her lack of a brain-to-mouth filter. Glancing at Kai, he hoped fervently that the other boy hadn't heard.

Judging by his enormous Chesire Cat grin, Kai had definitely heard (and of course he had, because Sonoko's indoor voice was only slightly quieter than a jackhammer).

Conan was never going to live this down.

* * *

"I still can't believe you twisted your ankle trying to attach a note to one of Kaitou Kid's trained doves."

Conan scowled, staring fixedly ahead at the blackboard. He'd been like this all day; refusing to acknowledge Kaito's presence in favour of glaring at everyone and everything.

Maybe Kaito was being slightly cruel with his teasing—but it honestly wasn't his fault. I mean, with material like a sprained ankle (the cause of which was one of Kaito's own doves) and a crush on a girl ten years older than him, how could Kaito not tease him? It was a golden opportunity he wasn't about to miss.

Though, if he mentioned Conan's 'mushy feelings' one more time, he had a feeling Conan might actually strangle him on the spot.

Lunchtime rolled around with Conan still refusing to acknowledge that Kaito even existed, and Kaito's sort-of-but-not-really-friend stormed off to sit with his actual friends; Ayumi, Genta, Mitsuhiko, and that scary girl with the evil eyes.

Kaito sat alone. He didn't really mind, even if it was a little lonely. He could feel multiple sets of eyes on him; apparently his status as the "weird new kid" hadn't worn off yet. Retrieving his bento from his bag and cracking it open, he made to take a bite of his curry.

"Kai-kun, do you want to eat lunch with us?" Kaito glanced up from his bento, his curious gaze meeting equally curious blue eyes in the middle of a small, cute face. It was the brown-haired girl from yesterday, the one with the pink headband: Ayumi.

Kaito blinked. Stared. Pointed to himself. Stared some more. "Me?"

Ayumi nodded. "Yeah! Sit with us!" She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper—if you could call it a whisper, that was. Whispering appeared to be a skill you learnt later on in life, alongside patience, tact and hint-taking. "Some of the other girls are looking at you funny. I think they like you."

"...they do?" Kaito scanned the room suspiciously, and about a dozen heads quickly jerked away and pretended to be immensely interested in their lunch. Well, that explained all the staring. "I suppose I'll be taking you up on that offer, then."

Suddenly, he tensed, sirens blaring in his head. He could feel malicious intent, and lots of it, directed right at him.

Surveying the room warily for its source, his gaze fell on a table in the far left-hand corner where four familiar children were watching him with varying emotions. Genta and Mitsuhiko were glaring at him like they wanted to bludgeon him to death with a rolling pin. The other boy happened to be Conan. He was performing his usual suspicious-detective-observation-thingamabob. The fourth child was the strawberry blonde evil-eyed girl, who was lazily eyeing Kaito with undisguised disinterest.

Ayumi noticed them staring, and waved. "Hey, Conan-kun, Ai-chan, Mitsuhiko-kun, Genta-kun! Kai-kun is sitting with us!"

None of them looked particularly pleased by this piece of news. Ayumi didn't appear to notice their displeasure at Kaito's presence, or else was ignoring it, because she seized Kaito by the wrist (that girl had an iron grip, Kaito would later reflect, while clutching his sore wrist mournfully) and hauled him over to the table, all the while chattering excitedly about detectives and boys and mystery-solving.

Kaito ate his lunch thoughtfully, maintaining an even balance of both socialising and analysing their behavior. Conan seemed to be the unofficial leader. He and the evil-eyed girl, who Ayumi told him was called Haibara Ai, were by far the smartest members of the group. Haibara was quiet, though by no means shy, while Conan looked to be making inward sarcastic comments at every remotely childish thing the other three said. That really wasn't fair. Conan was a prodigy, after all, while Ayumi, Mitsuhiko and Genta were regular kids.

Speaking of Mitsuhiko and Genta; Mitsuhiko was intelligent for a child. Genta was the opposite. Both, however, appeared to have a crush on Ayumi, because every time Kaito so much as spoke to her or made her laugh, they glared daggers at him.

His observations were interrupted when Genta opened his second bento box, revealing it to be packed to the brim with tuna sushi. Kaito had then destroyed half the classroom in his haste to escape the evil creatures, all the while shrieking the house down, and had to be consoled by Ayumi and Kobayashi-sensei.

"Kai-kun, are you okay?" Ayumi asked him, visibly concerned. She was knelt down and gazing worriedly at Kaito, who had curled up underneath a desk, shivering. "You just started screaming all of a sudden. Did you see a spider, or something?"

Kaito couldn't find the words to reply. He could still see the slimy pink chunks of fish flesh in the blackness of his eyelids, and each time the memory resurfaced, his stomach churned violently. He forced open his mouth and succeeded in croaking out four intelligible words. "Leave me to die."

"Conan-kun! Kai-kun won't come out from under the desk!"

A few minutes of irritated grumbling and awkward shuffling passed, before a pair of sharp bespectacled blue eyes loomed in Kaito's vision. "Kai." A familiar, exasperated voice spoke. "Come out from under the desk."

"No."

"Kai."

"No."

"Kai."

"No."

"Kurosawa Kai, I swear, if you do not come out from under the desk right this minute, I am going to throw away your Kaitou Kid stationery."

A long moment passed in utter silence. Then Kai reluctantly crawled out from under the desk.

Only to catch sight of Genta's open bento box, scream, and dart back underneath


	9. Arctic Cod and Lactose Intolerance

**Disclaimer: I don't own Detective Conan.**

 **I think I've hit a personal record for longest chapter. That is probably the greatest achievement I've had in a while; I'm so proud.**

 **I don't do much with my life. Chances are, most of you don't either. Unless if you've discovered the secret to balancing anime and fanfiction with your regular lives. If that is the case, then please inform me, because I mostly certainly do _not_ know how to balance fanfiction with reality. Anime is like a bottomless pit; once you've fallen in, you can say goodbye to your social life, because you're never escaping.**

 **I feel like Kaito is my spirit animal in this chapter** **. Just saying. I can't be the only one.**

 **This chapter, we explore a new character as well! Mitsuhiko, because he's undeniably adorable and romantically confused. I've been wanting to write more of the Detective Boys for a while, but I couldn't fit them in properly until now. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

"So. Fish, huh?"

Kai's expression was adamantly sour, but Conan caught the barely-noticeable twitch of his eye at the word 'fish'. "Shut up."

"You know, just a few days ago, I might have respected your ludicrous phobia and left you alone," Conan continued, thoroughly enjoying watching Kai squirm. "But, you see, I distinctly recall you making multiple mocking jabs earlier today about my, quote unquote, 'gooey puppy love'. I feel that it's only fair that I do the same for you."

Kai's scowl deepened, the clear skin on his forehead crumpling in a concertina-like fashion as his brow furrowed further. He swiped sullenly at the classroom floor with his mop, still stubbornly refusing to meet Conan's eyes.

He hadn't looked directly at Conan since the aptly-named 'Sushi Incident'. Waves of humiliation and wounded pride had positively radiated off of him the entire day, light, mischievous chatter replaced by stony silence. His hood was pulled up over his head all the way—something Kai never did, because "I like and need my vision, thank you very much," and the hand that wasn't limply holding a mop was jammed into his jacket pocket.

Even now, as the entirety of class 1B worked together to clean their homeroom at the end of the day, Kai just sulked in the corner, being next-to-useless. If Conan hadn't known better, he'd have thought that Kai had a personal vendetta against mops—he was glaring at his designated cleaning utensil as if it had done something unforgivable to him in the past.

If Kai were in any other mood, Conan would have followed through with his airy threats and made fun of him. As it was, any teasing would either be met by hostile silence or anger (and Conan didn't want to see Kai angry—ever).

Besides, now that he thought about it, any irrational phobia in a six-year-old would likely stem from a traumatic experience.

Perhaps it was the guilt that accompanied that stray thought that drove him to do it, or maybe it was Kai's general stormy mood, but Conan gave a sigh and rummaged through his school bag. He had to remove a book and place it down on his desk to do so, but he managed to locate a strawberry lollipop (a must-have when you spent six plus hours a day with elementary schoolers), which he proceeded to hand to Kai.

Hesitantly, Kai took it, throwing a look of deep suspicion in Conan's direction. "It's poisoned, isn't it." According to Japanese grammar rules, it should have been a question; but it was intoned so flatly and so matter-of-factly that it sounded more like an accusatory statement.

This, quite understandably, triggered an indignant reaction on Conan's part. "As if I'd be dumb enough to try and poison you on school grounds! In front of our entire class, no less!"

"Oh. I get it," said Kai. "It's a slow-acting poison, then. Clever."

"I am _not_ trying to poison you, idiot!"

"Okay, but if I die tonight–"

"Look, do you want the candy or not?"

Kai ate the candy.

And, when Kai returned to his mopping, Conan noticed that he was slightly more enthusiastic. That brought a smile to his face (not that he'd ever admit it).

The smile promptly left his face, however, when he realised that he still had twenty five desks to clean in the next three minutes.

"Damn you, Kurosawa," he muttered, as he got to work scrubbing furiously at the desktops with a damp cloth.

Just as finished wiping down the last of the desks (miraculously within the time limit), the familiar buzz of his cellphone vibrated his pocket, and he took it out and checked his messages.

* * *

 _ **From:**_ _Hattori-can't-keep-a-secret-for-toffee-Heiji_

 _Yo, Kudo!_ (*・ω・)ﾉ _Didja miss me?_ _I've got a case in Beika so Kazuha and I'll be here for the weekend (I didn't wanna bring her but she made me – what kind of lady uses intimidation techniques to get what she wants? Scary much?_ (￢_￢;) _Anyway, feel like having another deduction battle? I'll win, of course, but I figure I might as well give your miniature ass a chance._ (￣︶￣) _My train arrives at four thirty. Whaddya say?_

* * *

Conan couldn't help the smile that crept onto his face. He hadn't spoken to Hattori in a while, and, to be honest, he'd missed him—not that he'd ever admit it to Hattori's face. That guy's ego was big enough without him feeding it.

* * *

 _ **To:**_ _Hattori-can't-keep-a-secret-for-toffee-Heiji_

 _You're on._

* * *

No sooner had he pressed the send button than the phone disappeared from his hands. Momentarily startled and more than a little confused, he glanced up to find Kai holding his Kudo Shinichi phone and scanning the text with a strange expression on his face.

"Oi, Kai!" Conan snatched the phone back, glaring at him. "I've told you before; it's rude to read other people's texts."

His harsh reaction was partly due to anger, but mainly due to panic over the fact that Kai was reading a text addressed to 'Kudo'. Fortunately, Kai seemed to have missed that detail altogether.

"I know that guy," Kai said. "Hattori Heiji. He's ten years older than us." His expression was unreadable, like a novel written in invisible ink; there was something behind that blank slate, but Conan couldn't for the life of him tell what it was. "Why are you talking to him?"

"Because," Conan said slowly, "he's my friend? That's what friends do. Interact."

"Yes, but–" A hint of frustration broke through the blank facade, and Kai started to gesture wildly with the hand that wasn't holding onto a cleaning instrument. "But– why is he talking to _you?"_

Conan narrowed his eyes. "Should I take offense to that?"

"That's not what I meant!" By this point, Kai was visibly agitated. "It's just, you're _six–_ "

"Seven."

"–and he's _seventeen!_ What's he doing texting you and asking you to meet up?" Kai went a little pink. "I mean, it sounds a little like– a little like– like…" he trailed off, refusing to meet Conan's eyes.

Conan stared.

Oh. _Oh._

"I–I don't know what you're talking about," Conan lied pointedly, unable to stop himself from going a little pink as well. The bell chose that moment to set off ringing, as if it sensed their mutual discomfort and was feeling kind enough to save them both from it. "There's the bell. I've got to go meet Hattori. I'll see you Monday."

He left the classroom at a quick walk, glancing back to see Kai gazing thoughtfully down at his mop as though he were considering how best to use it as a weapon. Exiting the school gates, he figured he might as well walk to the train station now, even if it meant he'd end up having to wait a good half an hour for Hattori's train to arrive. He needed to think.

Kai… thought Hattori was a _paedophile_. That awkward realisation hung in the air around him as he walked. Kai thought that _seventeen-year-old_ Hattori was interested in _seven-year-old_ Conan _._ He groaned, burying his face in his hands. Damn Hattori, for sending such misleading texts. Damn Kai, for misinterpreting such misleading texts.

How was he supposed to clear this misunderstanding up? " _Hey, Kai, you know that friend of mine you thought was a paedophile? Yeah, the one who's ten years older than me. Well. He's not. We're just friends, I swear."_

That was going to be an awkward business that Conan wanted nothing to do with.

The train station was beginning to come into view up ahead, and Conan broke into a jog. A quick glance at his watch told him that Hattori's train wasn't due to arrive for another forty-five minutes, so he figured he might as well stop off at a café and buy a steaming cup of liquid tranquility (thank goodness for coffee).

When he arrived at the café, however, he found that he wasn't the only one to have thought of that idea. Ran, Sonoko and another girl Conan didn't know sat at a table with hot drinks in front of them, chattering away about something or other.

Ran caught sight of him hovering by the doorway, and beckoned him over. "Aoko-chan, this is Conan-kun."

The other girl, who Conan presumed was 'Aoko-chan', widened her eyes. "So this is Conan-kun!"

"You know Conan-kun?" Ran asked with a frown. "Conan-kun, have you met Aoko-chan before?"

Conan shook his head, clambering onto an empty seat beside Ran. On closer inspection, Aoko looked a lot like Ran; they had the same triangular chins and round eyes, and their hair was nearly the exact same shade of brown. The only notable differences were the fact that Aoko's hair was messier and lacked the enormous cowlick that Ran possessed, and their eyes were different colours—Ran's irises were a soft lavender, while Aoko's were a darker shade of blue.

"It's not that I've met Conan-kun in person before," Aoko said. "My dad is on the Kid task force though, so you've probably met him, and I've heard about you on the news. You're the 'Kid Killer', right? You help my dad capture Kid, and I'm grateful for that." She frowned, her forehead creasing. "But Kid's gone missing now, so…" Then she perked up all of a sudden. "And Hattori-san mentioned you! He said you looked like Kai-kun—and you do, actually!"

Conan sighed. Was everyone he knew linked to Kai in some way?

"Kai-kun?" Sonoko sipped what looked to be hot chocolate and sent Conan a questioning look. "Isn't Kai-kun your friend, four-eyes?"

"He is," Conan replied curtly. He stared across the table at Aoko. How did Ran know her, anyway? If Aoko knew Hattori, chances were it was through Kazuha. Then, they must all be waiting for Hattori and Kazuha's train to arrive as well.

"You know Kai-kun?" Aoko blinked, seeming surprised. "Is he in your class?"

"He is."

"Are you close?"

"Define 'close'."

Not seeming to understand Conan's last answer, Aoko ceased with the pointless questions and took out her phone. "There's still half an hour until Kazuha-chan and Hattori-kun arrive," she said, her gaze flickering towards the empty cup in front of her, "and I'm out of hot chocolate."

"Same here," Sonoko said, downing her last gulp.

Ran tilted her cup towards herself and peered at the interior. "Me too."

"I would like some coffee," Conan announced.

Ran shot him a disapproving look. "Coffee stunts your growth, Conan-kun. It's not a children's drink."

Conan groaned and let his forehead fall onto the table. Damn Ran and her motherly instincts. He wanted coffee. He _needed_ coffee.

"What should we do now?" Sonoko rested her cheek on one hand, eyes half-lidded. She yawned. "I don't know about you, but I don't plan on sitting here for the next half hour."

Ran frowned. "There's not much we can do at a train station though…"

"How about we order some coffee?" Conan suggested.

"Quiet down, brat."

Conan fell into venomous silence.

"Well, how about we play I-Spy?"

"What, that game we played in the car when we were kids?"

"Yeah! That one!"

"I don't know. It sounds kind of babyish."

"Oh. You think so?"

"Well, I think it's a great idea."

"What?"

"Really? Okay! Then, I'll start! I spy with my little eye, something beginning with...T!"

"Gee, I don't know. A 'tree'?"

"Nope~"

"Um...how about a 'table'?"

Conan groaned. He couldn't survive forty-five minutes of this; he probably couldn't even survive ten minutes of this. He'd die of sheer boredom before Hattori even arrived. Tugging his bag onto his lap, he rummaged inside for his 'Detective Samonji' book.

Oddly enough, it wasn't there.

Conan frowned and looked again. He was sure he'd put it in his bag that morning, so why wasn't it—

Oh.

He'd taken it out earlier, hadn't he? When he handed Kai that lollipop? He'd taken it out and left it on his desk.

For a so-called prodigy, he could be incredibly stupid at times.

Quietly, Conan slipped away and headed back to school.

* * *

Truth be told, Kai hadn't actually been that upset about Conan's teasing. He had even done some mopping up after school; reluctantly, albeit. Mops had come to be synonymous with imminent pain to him—courtesy of none other than Nakamori Aoko—and so every time he saw a mop, his fight-or-flight instincts kicked in and he was filled with this gut-wrenching sense of dread.

Anyway, after that awkward as hell conversation with Conan, Kaito figured he deserved something sweet. He'd deal with Hattori the creep later. Maybe he'd head down to the corner shop and buy one of those delicious chocolate cake bars, the ones with the milk chocolate filling and dark chocolate coating. He was beginning to drool just thinking about it; those things were heaven in a bar.

Of course, being the absolute genius he was, he completely forgot his school bag in his haste to buy chocolate, and so ended up having to run back to school holding an unopened cake bar and retrieve it.

It was oddly surreal being in school after hours. If you were a member of an after school club, he supposed that you'd be used to it. But Kaito was and always had been a lazy excuse for a human being, so refused to join any club that forced him to move about. Which, apparently, meant every club. So yeah. Kaito was a clubless piece of trash.

A _fabulous_ clubless piece of trash, of course.

Kaito quickly made his way down the corridor and slipped into his classroom. It was empty, thankfully—it would be ridiculously awkward if he had to explain himself to anyone—and he located his bag underneath his desk, exactly where he'd left it. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he went to unwrap the cake bar.

And then he froze.

A bird was tapping at the window. And not just any bird. It was a dove. A snowy white dove, with a pale pink letter tied to its leg.

It was Aya.

"Aya-chan!" Kai ran to the window and fumbled with the latch. It didn't seem to be locked, but it wasn't budging either. "What are you doing here?"

He already knew the answer to that; she was here to deliver Suzuki's letter, the sweetheart. Kai smiled fondly, for about a nanosecond, before his Oh Crap reflexes kicked in.

Because, from this window, Kai could see the school gates. And Conan was making his way back to school.

Why? Why was he coming back? Had he forgotten something, like Kai had? Kai frantically scanned the room, and his gaze found a book lying abandoned on Conan's desk. Conan had forgotten a book. Conan was coming back to the classroom. And when Conan came back to the classroom, he was going to walk in on Kurosawa Kai and a dove that was supposed to be delivering a letter to Kaitou Kid.

No. _Nonononononononono._ This was bad. Very, _very_ bad. "Aya-chan!" Kaito hissed. "Aya-chan, shoo! Bad girl! You can't be here!"

Aya—his darling, confused, painfully loyal Aya—tilted her head and gazed at him, dark eyes swimming with a mixture of bewilderment and hurt. She responded to his panicked shooing by hopping even closer and thrusting the leg tied to the pale pink letter towards him, wordlessly asking him to take it.

"Aya-chan," Kaito whined. "Aya-chan, you are my smartest, bravest, most loyal dove and I love you, but _this is not the time_! Co-chan's on his way!"

If Conan saw Aya, all hope of Kaito's true identity remaining a secret would be shattered. Kaito already knew that Conan was suspicious of him; he could tell by the way Conan constantly eyed him with that Look on his face (did all detectives take courses on suspicious Looks? Because Kaito swore he'd seen that exact expression on Hakuba's face multiple times before). Aya's presence in their classroom would surely clue him on to who "Kurosawa Kai" really was.

"Aya-chan! Aya! Shoo! Before Conan sees you!" This only seemed to confuse Aya further, and once again she shoved the letter towards Kaito. Despite her title as the most intelligent of Kaito's many doves, she didn't seem to comprehend the urgency of the situation. Kaito's pleas for her to leave for seemingly no reason and unwillingness to receive Suzuki's letter appeared to be simultaneously confusing and frustrating her. In fact, each time Kaito told her to go away, she seemed to become even more determined to deliver the letter, and even more adamant on not leaving.

Cursing under his breath, Kaito gave up on trying to convince her to leave with Suzuki's letter and focused on trying to force open the window. If he took the letter, then maybe Aya would leave.

But no matter how hard he shoved, the window wasn't budging.

"Kai-kun?"

Kai swore his heart stopped for a second, before he realised that A) this wasn't Conan's voice, and B) Conan never addressed him with the -kun honorific. He turned around, and almost passed out from sheer relief.

He never thought he'd ever be so happy to see Tsuburaya Mitsuhiko's face in his life.

"Thank goodness," he breathed, collapsing against the window. His knees felt impossibly weak. "Thank freaking goodness."

Mitsuhiko looked adequately confused. "Kai-kun? What are you doing here?"

"We can talk later," Kaito said. "Right now, I need your help."

Mitsuhiko frowned, his brow furrowing. "Kai-kun, I don't understa–hey!" Not giving Mitsuhiko a chance to protest, Kaito seized Mitsuhiko by the wrist and dragged him to the window.

"I need help opening this," he said. "Please."

And then, he _may_ have used his best puppy-dog eyes on Mitsuhiko. Now was not a time for fair play. Predictably, Mitsuhiko gave in to his irresistible pleading face and yanked on the latch. The window jolted upon, almost dislodging Aya-chan from her perch.

"I'm sorry, Kai-kun, but… is that–is that a dove?"

"Shhhh!" Kaito pressed an urgent finger to his lips, before reaching out and unwinding the paper from Aya's leg. "Okay. I took the letter. Are you happy now?" Aya cocked her head. Kaito sighed. "I'll take that as a yes, then."

Conan's voice sounded from the corridor, accompanied by footsteps. He was speaking to someone, just outside the door. "The music room? Oh, go straight and turn right. No problem."

That was the point at which Kaito started to seriously panic. "Aya-chan! Conan's here! Go!" Frantically, he made shooing gestures at the dove perched on the windowsill while Mitsuhiko stared, looking unsure of how to react.

Seeming to sense Kaito's fear, Aya stumbled backwards, flapping her wings in alarm. But still she refused to leave him.

This wasn't right. Aya knew—all of Kaito's doves knew—that Conan was to be avoided. Kaito had made sure that they all knew to desert the area immediately when Kaito spoke the word 'Go', 'Leave', 'Shoo' or any other word to that effect alongside Conan's name.

"Aya-chan! Go! Conan! Leave!" Was Aya not responding because of his change in voice or appearance? That couldn't be it. Aya had responded to his commands while he was in disguise before. She always seemed to instinctively know that he was Kaito, no matter his appearance. Then what was it? Why wasn't she listening now? "Aya-chan! Shoo! Conan! Leave!"

Wait. What if…? "Aya-chan! Go! Tantei-kun!"

The effect was immediate. Aya spread her wings and disappeared in a flurry of white, just as Conan pushed open the classroom door and stepped inside.

Kaito sighed and collapsed onto the nearest chair, bringing a hand to his racing heart. That was close. _Too_ close.

That mistake earlier had almost cost him his identity. If he hadn't remembered at the last minute that his doves only knew Conan as 'Tantei-kun', Conan would have walked in on Kurosawa Kai and a dove that was supposed to be delivering a letter to Kaitou Kid, and his secret identity would have gone down the drain.

Kaito would have to be more careful. _Much_ more careful.

"Kai? Mitsuhiko? What are you two doing here?" Conan asked, scooping up his book and slipping it into his backpack. He surveyed them inquisitively, and Kaito noticed that he was wearing his interrogation face; deceptively sweet smile, innocent eyes, voice half-an-octave higher than usual.

It was the same face he wore when trying to question murder suspects without arousing suspicion.

Mitsuhiko didn't appear to notice Conan's change in attitude. He seemed distracted, still gazing at Kaito with a troubled look in his eyes. Once again, Kaito pressed his finger to his lips and sent him a, ' _Keep quiet'_ look. Understanding flashed in Mitsuhiko's dark eyes, and he nodded almost imperceptibly. "Nothing of importance," he told Conan. "We just both happened to forget things in the classroom, and came back to get them."

Conan raised an eyebrow. "Really?" he asked. Kaito winced. That false, saccharine voice of his really ground on his nerves. "Why are you by the window then, when your desk is over there?" Conan pointed towards each of their desks in turn.

Mitsuhiko was virtually radiating distress signals by now. "Um. That's because...uh…" He glanced pleadingly at Kaito, and Kaito could practically read his gaze: ' _I have no idea what I'm doing please help me'._

"Oh, we were just admiring the view," Kaito said smoothly. "Mitsuhiko here appreciates true beauty. He's creative minded like that, a real _artiste._ Aren't you, Mitsuhiko?"

Conan raised a sceptical eyebrow. "Seriously?"

Mitsuhiko hastily nodded. "Y–Yeah. I am an _artiste_. I love art. Art is, uh, great."

Conan stared at them for a long minute through narrowed slits, then seemed to deem further interrogation unnecessary and turned back towards the door. "Well, I'm leaving now—oh, and one more thing."

Kaito and Mitsuhiko simultaneously inhaled sharply and held their breath. For a tense moment, the room was silent.

"You should probably close that window," Conan said, before disappearing down the corridor.

Once Conan's footsteps faded away, Kaito and Mitsuhiko both released their held breath and shared relieved glances. "What on Earth was that?" Mitsuhiko asked, smiling a little weakly. "I felt like I was in some kind of spy movie."

"Believe me," Kaito said, "this isn't a movie." He sighed. "Hey, look, Mitsuhiko. Could you keep this a secret? Just between me and you. It's really important."

Mitsuhiko stared at him for a moment, before nodding slowly. "Just between me and you? Am I really the only one who knows?"

"Yep," Kaito said chirpily. "Just you. It'll be our special secret, okay?"

Mitsuhiko went a little pink. "O–okay."

Kaito scrutinised Mitsuhiko closely for a minute, and Mitsuhiko seemed to go even pinker under Kaito's gaze. "I never did properly introduce myself to you, did I?" he said. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he conjured up a pale yellow rose and offered it to Mitsuhiko. "Nice to meet you. I'm Kurosawa Kai."

Mitsuhiko hesitantly accepted the offered rose with reddened cheeks. "Thank you," he said, gently stroking the petals. "For the rose, I mean. It really is beautiful. I'm Tsuburaya Hitsumiko." He went an even brighter shade of scarlet at this little slip. "I–I mean, Tsuburaya Mitsuhiko. Um, how did you do that, by the way?"

"Do what?"

"The magic thing. With the rose."

"Well." Kai grinned, pressing his fingers to his lips for the third time that day. "A magician never reveals his secrets. Not even to his friends."

"Friends?"

"You saved my butt," Kaito declared. "That makes us friends by default." He tilted his head. "You do want to be friends, right?"

Mitsuhiko swallowed. "I–I do, but…"

"Then it's settled," Kaito said. Standing up, he flashed Mitsuhiko a smile and headed towards the door. "See you tomorrow, Mitsuhiko!"

"Oh, uh—see you tomorrow!" Mitsuhiko called after him.

Just as he reached the doorway, Kaito stopped, staring down at the unopened cake bar in his hand. Then, on the spur of the moment, he spun back around, crossed the classroom and shoved the bar into Mitsuhiko's hand, before walking off.

He could always buy another cake bar. Mitsuhiko deserved a reward of some sort, even if it was only small.

* * *

"Ha. Ku. Ba."

"What do you want, Kuro- I mean, yes, Kai-kun? And I'd rather you didn't address me as Hakuba."

"There's nothing on TV!"

Stretching lazily in a cat-like manner, Kaito eyed the television screen, which was currently displaying some kind of dull talent show. The TV remote was clutched in one small hand, the other hand occupied by a carton of orange juice. It didn't contain nearly enough sugar for his liking, but Hakuba had next to no sweet things in his kitchen, the madman, so he had to settle for juice. It was better than no sugar at all.

Hakuba sat a few metres away on the sofa, a laptop perched snugly atop his lap and a stack of paperwork at his side. He had a silver fountain pen gripped in one hand, which he tapped absently against his teeth now as he furrowed his brow at whatever was on his laptop screen. Probably some gruesome case, Kaito figured. Either that or a really strange cat video.

Hakuba glanced up briefly. "You found the TV remote? Where was it?"

"Inside a plant pot. And I found it last week."

"Was it now? Huh." Then: "What happened to Kamen Yaiba?"

"I just finished four seasons in a fortnight. I need a breather."

"Try the news."

"I'm _six_."

"Well. So you are."

Seeing that Hakuba wasn't all there, Kaito gave up, deciding to continue his aimless channel-surfing. He flicked past a cooking show (Boring), a bad soap opera (Ew) and a black and white silent movie that looked to have been made sometime around the Jurassic era what with how old it was (Why was this still being shown on TV again?) before finally landing on a mildly interesting-looking documentary about polar animals.

Unfortunately, that mildly interesting-looking documentary chose that moment to display a shoal of glimmering arctic cod, and Kaito proceeded to scream the house down.

Once he had calmed down and fabricated a explanatory lie about being afraid of arctic penguins, he decided to just follow Hakuba's advice and watch the news.

That idea turned out even worse than the fish documentary.

Plastered across the crimson news banner in bold white letters was the headline: **TEENAGE BOY GOES MISSING AFTER KID HEIST**.

"Seventeen-year-old Kuroba Kaito disappeared twelve days ago, and has not been in touch with his friends or family since. He is believed to still be in Japan due to his wallet and passport having been discovered in his home; however, the possibility of his disappearance being a kidnapping case, or worse, murder, still remains.

"Kuroba-san's childhood friend says, 'Kaito's a brilliant magician, better than even Kid, and a genius. No kidnapper would be able to lay a finger on him.' She begs for Kuroba-san to return home soon, as both she and his mother are worried.

"Kuroba-san is noted to be a talented magician. The day of his disappearance coincided with the night of Kid's latest heist. Police speculate whether the two magicians are linked."

Kuroba Kaito was... missing? Dead? Gone.

How long would it take to get an antidote? Was it possible to cure his condition? What kind of sick poison had he even consumed, anyway? Whoever created it must have been a twisted individual. How did his shrinkage benefit the Ravens, anyway? Had the poison's purpose even been to shrink him? Had it maybe been designed to kill him, but gone wrong somehow? The logic behind that theory was shaky at best, but by this point he was beginning to lose faith in logic

Kaito jabbed the power button on the remote with such force that it went clattering to the ground. The sound seemed to snap Hakuba out of his work-induced trance, and he looked at Kaito with surprising concern. "Kai-kun, is anything wrong?"

Kaito considered denying, but he knew that, although Hakuba was an arrogant bastard (who happened to like children, apparently), he was far from stupid. Ever since Kaito had shrunk, his poker face had been on the blink. He wasn't sure whether it was the shock of the incident, or something relating to his new body, but his poker face had been ten times harder to keep up recently, like a worn machine on the verge of shut down. Once or twice he had even found himself close to tears, something that hadn't happened since his father's death. He'd even cried once, in front of Conan no less.

Kaito would rather forget that that incident ever happened.

"Saguru-oniisan…?" he eventually said, his tone quieter than it had ever been as long as he could remember. "This...Kuroba...san. You know him, don't you? That's why you've been so busy recently. You've been working on his case. You knew that he had gone missing, didn't you? But you didn't tell me."

"Kai-kun." Hakuba deposited his laptop onto the coffee table and stared at Kaito for a minute, as if unsure what he was supposed to do in this situation—then stiffly shuffled forward, placing a tentative hand on a Kaito's shoulder. Kaito jerked away on reflex, and felt almost guilty as Hakuba quickly pulled back his hand, a hurt expression on his face. _Almost,_ because no matter what Hakuba was still an annoying bastard and Kaito didn't like him one bit. Or at least, he thought he didn't. "I—you don't even know Kuroba. It didn't occur to me that you'd care."

Kaito dug his fingernails into his thighs, marking his skin with deep white crevices. Taking a deep breath, he gathered up the jigsaw pieces of his poker face and slotted them together. "I don't, not really," he said, flashing Hakuba a pseudo-confident and one hundred percent false grin. "I always get sad when bad things happen to people, is all. Forget I said anything. Don't you have work to finish?"

Hakuba frowned, but reluctantly obliged, resettling his laptop back on his lap. "I suppose," he said slowly. "But Kai-kun, you worry me. I don't know who your parents are, your date of birth, your favourite colour—nothing. And frankly, I have no idea how one is supposed to care for a child."

 _Stop_. Kaito wanted him to stop. _Why was Hakuba being so...so caring?_ It didn't make sense.

"I can care for myself," Kaito said curtly, folding his arms almost petulantly. _Almost_ , because Kaito was _not_ a petulant child. Well, not mentally, at least. " _You_ can stock up the kitchen with more sugar. What am I supposed to live on, vegetables?"

Hakuba sighed, shaking his head. "Vegetables are good for you."

Kaito shot him an unimpressed stare in response. "If you're a rabbit, maybe."

They locked gazes in a battle of will; man vs child. Hakuba put up a good fight, but Kaito prided himself on his piercing stare. The older boy shifted uncomfortably in his seat, eventually glancing away, and Kaito claimed victory. "Fine," Hakuba said. "I'll stock the cupboards."

"Gummy candy," Kaito said. "Don't forget the gummy candy."

Hakuba held up a finger. "On one condition," he said. "You have to come shopping with me."

"No. I refuse. You can't make me."

* * *

"Kai-kun, could you fetch me a pint of milk, please?"

Kai scowled, shoving his hands into his pockets. He was wearing that horrendous Kaitou Kid hoodie again—Hakuba had tried to persuade him to wear something else, but trying to persuade Kai to change clothes was like trying to persuade a brick wall to move. "What? But that's, like, two whole aisles away! I don't want to walk that far!"

Hakuba placed a carton of eggs into the trolley and shot him a warning look. " _Kai-kun_."

"Geez, I'm going, I'm going." Kai stalked to the milk section and returned holding a bottle of milk. He dropped it roughly into the trolley, and Hakuba winced at the violent sloshing that resulted. "And I'll have you know I'm lactose intolerant," Kai announced.

Hakuba sighed. "You ate an entire tub of ice-cream last night," he said, his tone weary. "I sincerely doubt that you're lactose intolerant. "

"Ice cream's worth a stomach ache," Kai retorted. "And I don't like eggs."

It was all Hakuba could do not to groan aloud. When it came to being ridiculously difficult, Kai was just as bad as Kuroba—possibly even worse. Were all children this stubborn? He swore, if they were, he was never having children. "That's enough, Kai-kun. Now, could you go get me some salmo—"

"No."

"Kai-kun."

"No."

"Kai-kun, must you be so difficult?"

"I don't like salmon. I won't eat salmon. If you buy salmon, I'll run away." Kai paused, before adding, "In fact, don't even say the word."

"What is it about children and fish—"

Kai's body convulsed, and for a split second, Hakuba feared that he was having a seizure. His heart momentarily stopped. Then, Kai stopped writhing about, and his heart restarted.

Kai's eyes darkened, and he pointed an accusatory finger up at Hakuba. To be honest, Hakuba was a tad affronted. Did this child have no manners whatsoever? Hakuba would have to inform him that it was rude to point later. "I told you not to say that word," Kai said. "You _said the word_."

Hakuba studied Kai carefully, taking in his betrayed expression and the way his arm shook. "Earlier, that arctic documentary," he said slowly. "You weren't afraid of the penguins at all, were you?"

Kai was silent.

"You were afraid of the fish, weren't yo—Kai-kun? Wait, Kai-kun, where are you going? Kai-kun! Come back here!"

"YOU _SAID THE WORD_."


	10. Note to Self—the Passcode is 4869

**Disclaimer: I don't own DCMK.**

 **I'd like to say this chapter took a month to write because I've been studying for exams.**

 **If I did, though, that would be an absolute lie; I wrote, like, ninety five percent of this chapter, discovered Hetalia, and promptly forgot to finish it. It's finally up, though, so that counts for something, right?**

 **Also, three hundred followers! Another milestone!**

 **In this chapter, we finally get some long-awaited Kai and Hattori interaction! Kaito is on his way to discovering his first clue in the mystery of Edogawa Conan! Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Conan finally arrived at the platform twenty minutes before Hattori's train was due to arrive. The girls still weren't there, presumably still in the coffee shop. Figuring he might as well pass the time doing something interesting, he took his Conan phone out from his pocket, keyed in his passcode, and promptly discovered that his background had at some point within the last few hours turned a startling shade of pink.

Conan took a deep breath, counted down from ten, and tried to ignore the fact that pale pink hearts were fluttering down from the top of his phone screen like virtual cherry blossom petals. He pulled up his (baby pink with swirly pink hearts) Contacts menu, and scrolled through his contacts, his gaze travelling over names such as ' **Puppy Dog Eyes Ayumi** ', and ' **Pudgy McScientist** ' and ' **2 Cool 4 U Ai-chan** ' until, at the very end of his contact list, his gaze fell on a contact he was one hundred and fifty seven percent sure he hadn't entered into his phone: **(⌒▽⌒)❤ Co-chan's Soulmate❤(≧▽≦)**

Conan paused, his fingers hovering in midair a centimetre above his phone screen. This was his Conan phone. As far as he was aware, Kai had only ever come into contact with his Shinichi phone, and that had been a brief, one-off thing, a few hours prior. So _how_ and _when_ had Kai managed to do all this to Conan's phone?

❤~o~❤~o~❤

 **To:** (⌒▽⌒)❤ Co-chan's Soulmate❤(≧▽≦)

Explain. _Now._

❤~o~❤~o~❤

 **From:** (⌒▽⌒)❤ Co-chan's Soulmate❤(≧▽≦)

Gasp! Co-chan texted me! (ﾉ*0*)ﾉ It's a miracle! *:.｡.o(≧▽≦)o.｡.:*

❤~o~❤~o~❤

 **To:** (⌒▽⌒)❤ Co-chan's Soulmate❤(≧▽≦)

Ha ha. Very funny. Now _explain._

❤~o~❤~o~❤

 **From:** (⌒▽⌒)❤ Co-chan's Soulmate❤(≧▽≦)

Aw, Co-chan's so mean ( ≧Д≦) I'm hurt! And whatever do you mean by that? ┐(︶▽︶)┌

❤~o~❤~o~❤

 **To:** (⌒▽⌒)❤ Co-chan's Soulmate❤(≧▽≦)

Don't play dumb with me, Kurosawa. You know exactly what I mean. Here's a hint: **_pink_**.

❤~o~❤~o~❤

 **From:** (⌒▽⌒)❤ Co-chan's Soulmate❤(≧▽≦)

Oh, you mean my harmless redecorating! ❤❤❤❤ Do you like it~? I like to think it's _de toute beauté_ – _très magnifique, non?_

❤~o~❤~o~❤

 **To:** (⌒▽⌒)❤ Co-chan's Soulmate❤(≧▽≦)

 _Non._ I happen to find it _trés moche._

P.S. Stop using so many kaomojis. I get enough of that from Hattori.

❤~o~❤~o~❤

 **From:** (⌒▽⌒)❤ Co-chan's Soulmate❤(≧▽≦)

ಠ_ಠ

❤~o~❤~o~❤

 **To:** (⌒▽⌒)❤ Co-chan's Soulmate❤(≧▽≦)

What did I tell you about kaomojis? And seriously, when did you do all this? Add your number to my phone and plaster my screen and background with neon pink hearts? And how did you figure out my passcode, anyway? I don't recall giving you permission to access my - _personal_ \- mobile.

P.S. I'm changing everything back, including your contact name.

❤~o~❤~o~❤

 **From:** (⌒▽⌒)❤ Co-chan's Soulmate❤(≧▽≦)

But Co-chanヽ(ﾟДﾟ)ﾉ you can't do that! I put so much ❤ into making your phone look special, just for you! – you're going to break my ❤ ｡･ﾟﾟ*(д)*ﾟﾟ･｡

P.S. Figuring out your passcode was as easy as gorging on gummy candy. It's exactly the same as Sagu-nii's ┐(︶▽︶)┌ Seems all detectives think the same, am I right?

❤~o~❤~o~❤

 **To:** (⌒▽⌒)❤ Co-chan's Soulmate❤(≧▽≦)

...I'm never using 4869 as a password ever again.

❤~o~❤~o~❤

 **From:** (⌒▽⌒)❤ Co-chan's Soulmate❤(≧▽≦)

There's my smart little Co-chan~

❤~o~❤~o~❤

 **To:** (⌒▽⌒)❤ Co-chan's Soulmate❤(≧▽≦)

Shut up. Tell me, why did you feel the need to hack my and Hakuba-san's phones again?

❤~o~❤~o~❤

 **From:** (⌒▽⌒)❤ Co-chan's Soulmate❤(≧▽≦)

I was bored, and Sagu-nii has Candy Crush ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

❤~o~❤~o~❤

 **To:** (⌒▽⌒)❤ Co-chan's Soulmate❤(≧▽≦)

That doesn't explain why you hacked me as well.

❤~o~❤~o~❤

 **From:** (⌒▽⌒)❤ Co-chan's Soulmate❤(≧▽≦)

I thought you needed some more joy in your life. You're so gloomy all the time. It makes me sad ｡ﾟ(｡ﾉωヽ｡)ﾟ｡

❤~o~❤~o~❤

 **To:** (⌒▽⌒)❤ Co-chan's Soulmate❤(≧▽≦)

So you thought hacking my phone and changing my theme to pink hearts was the best way to go about cheering me up.

P.S. I am not gloomy. I am simply mature.

❤~o~❤~o~❤

 **From:** (⌒▽⌒)❤ Co-chan's Soulmate❤(≧▽≦)

You are too.

❤~o~❤~o~❤

 **To:** (⌒▽⌒)❤ Co-chan's Soulmate❤(≧▽≦)

Am not.

❤~o~❤~o~❤

 **From:** (⌒▽⌒)❤ Co-chan's Soulmate❤(≧▽≦)

You're so gloomy that even Grumpy thinks you need cheering up.

❤~o~❤~o~❤

 **To:** (⌒▽⌒)❤ Co-chan's Soulmate❤(≧▽≦)

...was that a Snow White reference?

❤~o~❤~o~❤

 **From:** (⌒▽⌒)❤ Co-chan's Soulmate❤(≧▽≦)

It might have been ╮(︶▽︶)╭

❤~o~❤~o~❤

 **To:** (⌒▽⌒)❤ Co-chan's Soulmate❤(≧▽≦)

I'm leaving.

❤~o~❤~o~❤

Silencing his phone, Conan shoved it back into his pocket. What on Earth had possessed him to think that talking to Kurosawa Kai would be a good way to maintain his sanity? There were still fifteen minutes to go until Hattori's train arrived, but Conan was fine with spending that sitting on his own on a bench, watching the trains go by.

Two minutes before Hattori's train was due, the girls finally appeared on the platform. Ran's expression was stormy. "Conan-kun. What have I told you about sneaking off on your own like that?" she scolded. "You shouldn't worry us like that!"

"Sorry, Ran-neechan," Conan said, his voice slipping into 'cute-little-kid' mode. She turned huge blue eyes on the girls. "I was just so excited to see Hattori-niichan again! He promised me we could play detectives!"

Aoko visibly melted. Apparently, Ran's doppelgänger had a weakness for cute children. If only Sonoko were as easy to manipulate as Aoko; the blond heiress was currently shooting him an unimpressed look that clearly said, ' _I don't buy that crap, four-eyes'._

"Geez," Ran said with a sigh, "I _told_ Hattori-kun not to encourage you like that! It's bad enough that you have to be there during my dad's cases; Hattori-kun shouldn't be dragging you into _his_ as well. It can't be healthy to see that many dead bodies at such a young age. Maybe I should take you to a therapist…"

Fortunately, Conan was spared from the dreaded prospect of a therapist by the skid of train against track as the four-thirty train finally pulled into the station. The doors hissed open, and a mass of exiting passengers swarmed out.

Conan sat. And waited. And waited.

No Hattori.

Thirty seconds or so later, the doors slid shut again, and the train glided off.

The crowd dissipated, and the platform cleared.

Still no Hattori.

"That was the four-thirty train," Aoko said, dark blue eyes wide with confusion. "Why aren't Hattori-san and Touyama-chan here?"

Sonoko clicked her tongue in exasperation. "Don't tell me they missed the train."

"Heiji-niichan's dumb, but he's not _that_ dumb," Conan said. Pulling out his Shinichi phone, he dialled Hattori's number. "Heiji-niichan? Where are you?"

"Kudo? Uh, yeah, here's the thing… you might have, uh...missed us?"

"What do you mean we missed you? You said your train arrives at four thirty!"

Hattori's wince was almost audible, despite him being on the other end of a phone line. "I know," he said, his voice choppy and crackling with static. The connection at the train station left much to be desired. "But Kazuha and I actually got to the station early for once, so we got an earlier train and, uh... Guess I forgot to tell you. Oops?"

"DON'T YOU 'OOPS' ME, HATTORI."

Ran startled. "Conan-kun! That's so disrespectful! You can't just drop honorifics with elders!"

Conan laughed sheepishly. "R-right. Sorry, Ran-neechan." Turning his attention back to his phone, he demanded, "Heiji- _niichan_ , where are you right now?"

"Um. Kazuha wanted to go look around, so we did some wandering and now...I don't actually...know?"

There was a moment of silence, in which Conan contemplated his friend's sheer, unadulterated stupidity and wished he'd never agreed to a stupid deduction battle in the first place.

"Kudo? You there?"

"Heiji-niichan's lost," Conan announced, scorn underlying his tone. "He and Kazuha-neechan got on an earlier train and wandered off and now they don't know where they are."

Ran didn't even looked surprised. "Again?"

"Again?" Aoko repeated. "Do they do this a lot?"

"You have no idea."

Hands on hips, Sonoko made her opinion known (as per usual). "This is stupid. I thought you said this detective guy was supposed to be smart."

Hattori's voice piped up over the phone, "In case it helps the matter in any way, I have a map."

" _No_ ," Conan said, through gritted teeth, "that does _not_ help, Heiji-niichan. Now, look for a landmark, or street name, or the name of a store. "

"Ah, I can see...a supermarket…and a sushi restaurant...a hairdressers?"

"I know where you are," Conan said. "Look, you know where Poirot Café is, right?"

"Uh, sure," said Hattori. "I mean, of course I do."

"We'll meet you there." And he hung up.

* * *

"Ahou! I told you we should'a turned left!"

"You're the ahou! I did turn left!"

"You call that a left? That was right and you know it!"

"It was _not!"_

Heiji didn't bother arguing back. Kazuha really was _hopeless_ , sometimes. I mean, you'd think after 17 years of life she'd know the difference between left and right.

Actually, thinking back, that might've been a left. Not that Heiji was about to admit his mistake. Kazuha was big-headed enough as it was—she didn't need Heiji to feed her ego by conceding that she was right (for once).

Heiji glanced at his watch. He had planned on surprising Kudo by taking an earlier train than the one he'd told him—that had gone horribly wrong, of course—but at this rate, he'd have to call Kudo to ask for directions to Poirot Café. He almost took out his cellphone and made the call right then—but then he pictured the smug look on his rival's face as Heiji confessed that he didn't actually have a clue where the café was, and that he was lost _again_ , and he hastily shoved his phone back into his pocket. He had his manly pride to uphold. He wasn't about to ask a _seven-year-old_ for directions.

Sure, Kudo might mentally be seventeen, but a seven-year-old was a seven-year-old, no matter the mental age. His dignity wouldn't allow it.

Suddenly, Hattori was struck by a strange prickling sensation at the back of his head, and he whirled around to scan the pavement behind him. There didn't appear to be anyone suspicious loitering behind him, just the usual passersby.

And yet, Heiji could've sworn he'd felt someone watching him.

"...eiji! Heiji, snap out of it!" Heiji's thoughts were brutally interrupted by Kazuha's shrill voice.

"What do you want?" Heiji snapped.

Kazuha huffed, crossing her arms and tapping one foot. She was wearing expensive-looking velvet pumps, Heiji noticed, instead of her usual comfortable trainers. Finally making an effort to look remotely feminine, he guessed. Her flat chest didn't help one bit. "Look," Kazuha said, pointing to a large shopping centre on the other side of the street. Crowds of people swarmed in and out, arms racked with assorted shopping bags.

"What about it?" Heiji asked.

Kazuha tutted. "Geez, are you really that stupid?" she said. "Don't you see it?"

Heiji bit back an angry remark, instead gritting out, "See what?"

"The _sign_!"

Heiji squinted closer in the direction of Kazuha's pointing. "That sign?" Plastered across one of the clothes store windows was a crimson sign, the words 'SALE - 50%' printed across it. The implication of Kazuha's words hit him like an unwanted ton of bricks. "No. We are _not_ going shopping."

"But, Heiji, it's 50 percent off!" Kazuha protested. "Do you have any idea how much that is?"

"Half price."

Kazuha gave him an unimpressed look. "That's not what I meant, ahou."

"Then what _did_ you mean, ahou?"

"I meant," said Kazuha, "that 50 percent off is a lot, and I really like that clothing store. So I need to take advantage of the sale."

"And I say that I don't want to go shopping," Heiji replied. "And we're supposed to be meeting Conan-kun and co. at Poirot Café right about now, in case you've forgotten."

"Well, it isn't like we actually know where Poirot Café is," Kazuha said. "Just text Ran-chan and tell her we had a change of plan. She'll understand, and besides, I'm sure she'd be interested in the sale too."

"Idiot! No way am I doing that!"

"Fine. I'll just go on my own." Kazuha spun on her heel and stormed off towards the shopping centre, narrowly avoiding getting hit by a truck in the process. Heiji's heart nearly stopped, and he hurried after her.

"What do you think you're doing?" he hissed, hurriedly catching up to her.

"Walking."

Heiji seized her shoulder, pulling her onto the pavement on the other side. "On your own? You nearly got yourself killed! You didn't even use the zebra crossing."

Kazuha just stared stonily into the distance, lips stretched in a thin line. Heiji sighed. "All right. I'll go to this sale with you. But don't expect me to enjoy it."

"I never expected you to enjoy it, Heiji."

Scowling, Heiji followed Kazuha into the clothes store. Racks and racks of torture awaited him; hopefully a case would occur to distract him. Not that he wanted anybody to die, of course, but if somebody was going to get murdered, it might as happen nearby so Heiji would have an excuse to scram. An abnormal amount of dead bodies followed Heiji around anyway—not as many as Kudo, admittedly, but then again, nobody encountered more corpses than Kudo.

A long, boring half hour passed, and nobody dropped dead. Apparently, the corpse curse only affected him when it was inconvenient. Then, just as Hattori was about to slip into a boredom-induced coma, Kudo and his girl posse finally arrived.

"Ku-Ku-Ku-Conan-kun! 'Neechan!" Hattori broke into a grin and waved.

Kazuha appeared from inside the changing rooms, beaming almost as widely. "Ran-chan! Aoko-chan! Sonoko-chan! Conan-kun!"

The pair of them made their way over to Kudo and the girls, Kazuha slipping into excited conversation with the girls as Heiji immediately moved to ruffle Kudo's hair. "Yo, Kudo!" he whispered. "You never answered my question! Did you miss me?"

Kudo gave him a flat stare. "I swear, if you don't remove your hand from my hair _right this minute_ I will _bite_ you."

Heiji recoiled as if he'd been burnt, chuckling nervously. "I see you're as violent as ever," he remarked, rubbing the back of his head. "So, are we getting a bite to eat or what? I'm starving."

"I need coffee," Kudo muttered.

"I could do with something to eat," Kazuha said, and Sonoko nodded fervently in agreement. "Just let me buy this dress." She wrinkled her nose. "I bet Heiji didn't even notice I'd changed outfits."

Heiji glared indignantly at her. "What? Of course I noticed!" He hadn't. "It's just so ugly I didn't think it was worth commenting on!"

" _Ugly?_ It is _not_ ugly!" Kazuha said, fists clenched. "You're the worst, Heiji!"

Truth be told, now that he looked at the dress, it wasn't actually that ugly. In fact, it looked kind of cute on Kazuha; gentle turquoise against her clear skin, bringing out tones of vibrant green in her eyes.

No. No, it didn't. What was he thinking? Kazuha wasn't cute. Kazuha was just...Kazuha.

He _knew_ he should have gone to bed earlier last night. Sleep deprivation made him crazy.

"I think your dress is really cute, Kazuha-neechan," Kudo piped up in his sickly-sweet kiddy voice. "You look just like a princess!"

Heiji shot him a glare as Kazuha knelt down and gently patted his head. Kudo didn't complain about _her_ touching his hair. "Thank you, Conan-kun," she said. "You're so sweet."

"I think your dress is cute too, Touyama-chan!" The new girl, Nakamori something, piped up. Kazuha gratefully smiled at her.

Sonoko and Ran quickly provided their own praise for Kazuha's dress too as they made their way to the checkout, and Heiji rolled his eyes. What was it with girls and compliments? Did they feel _obliged_ to call each other's outfits 'cute' all the time? Was it just a girl thing?

Girls were weird, he decided.

"I know this really great ramen place," Ran suggested as they left the store. "It's not too far either; a ten minute walk, maybe."

"That's great and all," Kudo said, "but does it have coffee?"

"Conan-kun, I've already told you, coffee stunts your gro–"

"Co-chan~!"

Kudo froze.

A small, familiar messy-haired boy skipped up to the group, beaming. "Wow, Co-chan!" That Conan-lookalike, whatshisface, Kai or something, giggled, sounding like a complete and utter airhead. "You're in town, too? What a coincidence!" He paused, tapping his index finger against his cheek. "Well, not really. I was hoping I'd see you here. I'm so happy you _are_ here, though! Imagine if I had to wait a whole night to see you again!" He shuddered, like not spending every second of the day with Conan was a terrible prospect.

Ran and Sonoko shared a bewildered look. Kazuha, on the other hand, looked utterly delighted. "You're Kai-kun, aren't you?" she said, kneeling down in front of Kai. "You were with Aoko-chan last time we met."

Kai nodded, that bubbly, kind of irritating smile never leaving his face. "Yup~" he sang. "I got lost, so I followed Heiji-niichan here, 'cause I knew he was going to meet Co-chan! I figured Co-chan wouldn't mind me tagging along, since I'm so _special_ to him." He punctuated the word 'special' by forming a love heart with his hands.

Hattori wrinkled his nose. What was _that_ supposed to mean? He could've sworn the kid wasn't this _annoying_ last time they'd met. Was Kudo seriously friends with this brat?

Going by the look of sheer horror on Kudo's face, apparently not.

"Special?" Ran's expression was that of someone who was utterly, completely lost beyond reason. "What? Conan-kun, I don't understand. Who is this?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Kai said loudly, before Kudo could cut in and explain. "I'm Co-chan's soulmate."

That was the point at which both Heiji and Kudo went into cardiac arrest.

Kudo recovered surprisingly quickly, and furtively elbowed the boy, ignoring the rest of the group, who were staring at them with a mixture of shock (Ran and Kazuha), affection (Aoko), amusement (Sonoko) and utter dumbfoundedness (Heiji). "Kai," he gritted out through a forced smile. "What are you _doing_ here?"

Kai pouted. "I already said, didn't I? I got separated from Saguru-niisan and now I'm lost."

"Yes, but—" Kudo's eyebrow twitched. "Why couldn't you just _call_ Hakuba-san and ask where he was?"

Hattori's brow twitched. No wonder this brat ground on his nerves; any child associating with that bastard Hakuba was bound to be trouble.

"Well, that would be no fun, would it?" Kai replied with an impish smile. "Besides," he added, his eyes darkening, "he _said the word_."

"What?"

"Nothing!" Kai said, brightening again. "Can we go get food? I'm starving!"

"Of course we can," Ran said, in that impossibly kind tone she reserved for children only. "Does ramen sound okay to you?"

Nodding enthusiastically, Kai followed the rest of the group down the street as Ran lead them to the ramen place she'd mentioned. To be completely honest, all Heiji wanted to do was isolate Kudo somehow and question him about this whole "soulmate" deal. He figured Kai had some kind of kiddy gay crush or something; or maybe it was the whole lookalike thing? Heiji didn't have a clue. He'd soon find out though.

Half an hour later, they were seated at a large round table in a small ramen place, drinks in front of them. It was weird watching the two elementary schoolers side by side—Kai was glugging down his cola like his life depended on it, while Kudo took more reserved sips of his lemonade. Occasionally, Kudo would stop and glare at his drink, as if willing it to transform into coffee.

Heiji sipped at his own coffee, wincing at the bitter aftertaste. He didn't even _like_ coffee. Why had he ordered this again?

...oh, yeah; to spite Kudo.

"I'm going to call Hakuba-kun and let him know you're here," Aoko said, nudging her apple juice to the side and taking out her phone. "He's probably getting worried."

Kai shrugged. "I gue—" All of a sudden, his expression contorted, his bottom lip wobbling. He started fidgeting in his seat like some kind of giant-fish-out-of-water. "I need the toilet," he announced.

Ran nodded, and pointed to the far end of the restaurant. "It's over there."

Kai bit his lip, his cheeks going a little pink. "But I, uh...I don't like going on my own," he said quietly. "Can Heiji-niichan come with me?"

"Huh?" Heiji blinked. "Why me?"

"Because you're the only guy here older than seven, and none of us can go into the boys toilets," Kazuha said sharply. Hattori opened his mouth to protest, but Kazuha promptly cut him off with a threatening, " _Go with him._ "

Sliding off his chair, Kai skipped over to toilets, Heiji reluctantly following.

The moment they stepped inside, Kai went to the nearest toilet stall. But instead of entering it and using it like Heiji expected him to, Kai only peered inside and then moved on to the next. He did this to each of the stalls in turn, seemingly checking that they were empty, before turning on Heiji.

"You," he said, and his voice was low and crisp, completely unlike the chirpy one he'd used mere minutes ago. That perpetual smile was gone from his face, replaced by a dangerously dark expression. "What do you want from Co-chan?"

Heiji blinked, startled. "What? Listen, kid, I don't know what you're talking about."

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," Kai hissed, and Heiji found himself taking a step backwards.

He was _not_ afraid of a six-year-old. He wasn't.

...okay, he might have been, but Kai was actually kind of terrifying.

"You're seventeen—Co-chan's seven," Kai continued. "So why do you insist on hanging out with him?"

Heiji could feel his gut churning; he was being interrogated by a _six-year-old_ and he was _scared._ "Well...well, that's because—"

"Do you just like children?"

"Not exactly—"

"So you _don't_ like children?"

"I don't hate them, they're just—"

"Would you hang out with just _any_ child?"

"No!"

"So why Co-chan, then? Why is Co-chan in particular tolerable when you don't even like children?"

"Conan-kun doesn't count!" The words were out before Heiji could stop them.

For a split second, the air was heavy with tense silence. Then, in a small voice, Kai spoke up. "Hey, Heiji-niisan," he asked quietly. "Why doesn't Co-chan count?"

* * *

 **Yes. I am that person who doesn't update in a month, and then ends the chapter on a cliffhanger.**

 **On the bright side, it shouldn't be long until the next chapter, so...that's at least something, right?**

 **(I really should start studying, though)**

 **(But _Hetalia!_ )**


	11. Rebellious Spirit

**I'm finally back with another chapter! Kai is discovering clue after clue this chapter; I'm finally getting somewhere plot-wise. Anyway:**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own DCMK. Or Pokémon, for that matter.**

* * *

"Why doesn't Co-chan count?"

Heiji froze, his mind going blank. Why was Conan special? Because he was Heiji's age and Heiji's best friend—but it wasn't like he could say that, could he? Desperately searching for something, _anything,_ to say, he inwardly cursed his utter inability to tell an effective lie. "That's—that's 'cause—"

Thankfully, a knock on the door cut Heiji off, and Kazuha's muffled voice sounded from outside. "How long do you two plan on taking?" she asked, sounding noticeably irked (no surprises there). " _Some of us_ would like to order."

"Sorry, Kazuha-neechan!" Kai called out in that creepily saccharine little voice of his, still not taking those cold blue eyes off of Hattori. "Heiji-niichan was just talking to me about Co-chan!" He trotted over to the door and flung it open, twirling around to face Heiji as he stepped out into the main restaurant. "You never answered my question, Heiji-niichan," he said. "Why doesn't Co-chan count?"

Once again, Hattori tensed. "W–Well," he stammered. "That's 'cause—'cause he's smarter than the other children."

Kai tilted his head, adopting a kicked-puppy expression (and Hattori would bet his baseball cap that it was fake). "Are you saying I'm not smart?" he asked, his lip trembling. "That's so mean, Heiji-niichan…"

Kazuha's expression softened, and Hattori knew he was screwed. Narrowing her eyes, Kazuha elbowed Hattori fiercely in the side. "Look what you've done now, Heiji! You've upset Kai-kun! Apologise!"

"But I didn't mean that!" Heiji protested. Kai, the brat that he was, had the nerve to snicker. "The kid just misunderstood! All I said was that Ku–Conan-kun was a smart kid!"

"Hey, Heiji-niichan, why'd you mess up Conan's name?"

Heiji's eye twitched. Kazuha knelt down beside Kai. "That's because Heiji's best friend—other than me, of course—is Kudo Shinichi, a high school detective who looks a lot like Conan. I think Ran mentioned that they're related, actually."

Kai frowned, something like comprehension passing over his face, and then broke into a sunny smile. "Okay! Thanks, Kazuha-neechan!" he said, and he skipped off towards their table.

Hattori stared after him in undisguised horror.

* * *

When Kai, Hattori and Kazuha returned to the table, Kai was looking distinctly pleased with himself, like a cat that'd just killed a mouse and was waiting to show off its catch to its owner. It was an expression that left Conan feeling faintly uneasy—a feeling that only further worsened when the waiter arrived at their table asking for their orders and Kai only ordered a bowl of ice-cream, despite being apparently "starving". Conan was quick to order tonkotsu ramen, like he always did at ramen joints, and the girls followed soon after.

Hattori, however, scanned the menu, humming and hawing like the idiot he was at every single item, before pointing at one of the options in the seafood section of the menu. "I think I'll have—"

"Order the seafood special and you won't wake up tomorrow morning," Kai said disturbingly cheerfully, only just loud enough for Conan to overhear.

Hattori lowered his arm. "On second thoughts," he said slowly, "I think I'll have the miso beef ramen."

Conan winced, making a mental note to discuss Kai's mental state with Hakuba sometime soon.

Speaking of Hakuba, he finally showed up towards the end of their meal, looking decidedly frantic. Aoko was quick to apologise on Kai's behalf, despite her not having done anything wrong herself, and then introduce Hakuba to her friends.

Of course, Hattori being Hattori, civilised conversation eventually devolved into a heated argument between Hattori and Hakuba, with the girls trying to calm them down (or at least, Ran and Aoko were; Kazuha was too busy yelling at Hattori to do anything to calm the pair, and Sonoko likely couldn't be bothered).

Taking advantage of the chaos, Conan tugged Kai away from the group until they were out of earshot. "Okay," he said. "What's the _real_ reason for you tagging along today?"

Kai blinked faux-innocently. "Whatever do you mean, Co-chan?" he asked. "Surely you aren't accusing me of having a sinister ulterior motive?"

Conan's eye twitched. There was definitely something not quite right about this child. "Yes, in fact. I am. Now spill; why are you _really_ here?"

Kai made a vague sound, stretching in a feline manner, his arms above his head. "No reason in particular," he said, his lips curling into a sly smile.

Hattori would later rant about Kai to Conan, all the while adamantly referring to him as a "pint-sized demon brat".

* * *

The first thing Kaito noticed as he stepped out onto the street was the wind. It was _freezing_ , which was weird, because he could've sworn that barely an hour ago the air had been fairly warm. He pouted to himself—it was already three-quarters of the way through May and summer was yet to fully arrive.

If there was one thing Kaito hated, it was the cold. Well, no. If there was one thing Kaito hated, it was fish. Next in the list were ice-skating and pogo sticks. But if there were four things Kaito hated, they were fish, ice-skating, pogo sticks and _the cold_. He was a sunshine kind of person; he liked sunlit summer mornings and gentle breezes and cool drinks under the intense afternoon sun. Thick layers and gloomy weather had always struck him as kind of depressing, like a movie night without popcorn.

Skiing was fun, though, he supposed. Snow was always nice, even if the cold wasn't.

Hakuba didn't even seem to notice the cold, despite the fact that the only layer on his torso was a thin white dress shirt. His eyes were stormy, and he was—seemingly unconsciously—chewing his bottom lip. Kaito had a feeling Hakuba wasn't too happy with him. Not that he cared or anything. He wasn't a child. He could do whatever he liked, whenever he liked, and no detective was going to stop him, temporary guardian or otherwise.

Another fierce wind blew, and Kaito shivered despite himself.

"I was worried, you know." Kaito glanced upwards. Hakuba wasn't looking at him, his gaze fixed elsewhere. "Running off like that—what if something happened to you?"

Something horrible and slimy uncoiled inside Kaito's gut and wormed its way upwards towards his stomach. He stubbornly squashed the feeling. _No_. Kaito refused to feel guilty. "I'm fine, aren't I?" he said. "Nothing happened."

"But something _could_ have happened. You could've gotten lost or kidnapped or worse! I don't know what I'd do if you ended up like—" Hakuba caught himself at this point, but Kaito knew what he had been about to say. _Kuroba Kaito._

The cold suddenly didn't feel like much in comparison to the ice in Kaito's heart.

"Yes, but it _didn't_ ," Kaito snapped. "Geez, I said I was _fine!_ I'm not some baby you can boss around."

Hakuba's forehead creased. "Kai-kun," he said, and Kaito sensed that he was trying to keep his tone calm for Kai's sake, "you're not even seven years old yet. You're hardly old enough to wander out on the streets on your own. It isn't safe."

"But Co-chan gets to go out on his own!" The words slipped out before Kaito could stop them, and kept flowing. "Ran-neechan lets him go out and play football in the park and solve murders all the time and—" _Crap._

Hakuba's horrified expression was more than enough to let Kaito know that he'd said the exact wrong thing. "Mouri-san lets him _what?"_

 _"_ Um," Kaito said, "play football?"

"Mouri-san allows him to investigate _murders?!"_ Hakuba's walking pace skyrocketed, and Kaito practically had to run to keep up, internally cursing his tiny legs. By now, Hakuba was chewing his bottom lip raw as he frantically muttered to himself. "Oh, God. I knew he was an intelligent child, and I was aware that he'd run into dead bodies before but—murders on a regular basis? His mental state must be horrific—" He drew to a sudden halt, and Kaito almost ran into the back of his (enviably long) legs. "I'll bet my pocket watch that it's that Hattori's fault. I swear, when I next see him I'll—" He broke off, seemingly realising that there was a supposed child in his presence. "I'll speak to Mouri-san," he said decisively. "Advise her to seek psychiatric aid for Edogawa-kun and keep him away from crime scenes. That's what I'll do."

Kaito was torn between agreeing with Hakuba and dreading what Conan would do if he ever found out what Kaito had done. But he kept quiet, inwardly cursing to himself.

He had a feeling this wasn't going to be pleasant.

* * *

Conan awoke the next day to the sound of Hattori's singing. He stared at the ceiling for a minute or two, trying to process the fact that Hattori was _here_ at what felt like six damn AM in the morning, before his detective instincts kicked in and he got up to investigate.

He eventually found Hattori in the kitchen, wearing Ran's apron and frying what smelled like pancakes. "Morning, sunshine!" Hattori called. "D'ya have a nice sleep?"

Conan stared, then blinked, then stared some more. "What the hell are you doing here."

Hattori shrugged. "Gee, Kudo," he said. "I thought you'd be happier to see me. I'm a little hurt."

It was at moments like these that Hattori _really_ reminded him of Kai.

"You know," Hattori continued,"just for that, I'm not giving you any pancakes."

"Give me those pancakes before I render you impotent."

Hattori shuddered, flipping a pancake onto a plate. "You're just as bad as that pint-sized demon brat," he said, handing the plate to Conan. "I'm always scared for my life around you two, and you're half my size."

That earned him a kick to the shin courtesy of one pissed off mini detective.

"So," Conan said, after Hattori had stopped writhing in pain and spouting a variety of creative cuss words. He pulled open the cutlery drawer and scanned the interior for a fork. "Why did you feel the need to break into the agency at six in the morning on a Saturday and make pancakes again?"

"FYI," Hattori said, his voice near-incoherent through a mouthful of pancake, "it's actually eight. And I did it because I was bored, you know? Why else?"

Hattori and Kai were honestly so alike it was scary.

"I hate you," Conan mumbled. He wasn't going to ask how the hell Hattori got in in the first place. He didn't even want to know. Louder, he asked, "Where's Kazuha-chan?"

"Left her at the hotel."

"Liar."

"Heh. You see right through me, don't you, Kudo?" Hattori chuckled. "She's in the bathroom. She'll be back in a minute; two minutes, tops."

Sure enough, Kazuha appeared just over a minute later, demanding pancakes, and Ran joined them ten minutes after that in a pair of striped pajamas, still yawning and rubbing tired eyes. They all squashed together on the sofa with plates of syrupy pancakes on their laps, watching reruns of some Shoujo anime Kazuha liked, and for thirty blissful minutes the atmosphere was relaxed and the air was light with the warmth of their camaraderie.

And then the doorbell rang. At eight freaking AM.

"Morning, sunshine!" came Kai's chipper voice the moment Conan opened the front door. "Is that pancakes I smell?"

Conan promptly slammed the door shut and walked off.

"Who was that?" Ran asked, tearing her eyes away from the cliché transformation scene currently playing out onscreen.

"Nobody who should rightly be here at eight AM on a Saturday," Conan said truthfully, and Ran probably wouldn't have questioned further had Kai just ceased his irksome knocking and gone home.

Of course, being who he was, Kai did not cease his irksome knocking and go home. He kept knocking. And knocking. And knocking. And then he stopped, and Conan wondered if he'd finally given up.

And then the ringing started up. It was that infuriating kind of ringing that children often did when they got it into their heads that ringing once or twice just wasn't enough, and that it was necessary to repeatedly ring the doorbell at a rate of six rings a second. Except Kai must have had some serious motor skills, because he was hitting doorbell-ringing speeds that Conan hadn't known were _possible_.

Shooting Conan a half-suspicious, half-questioning look, Ran made to get the door—but Hattori was faster and about fifty times more irritable than she was, and was halfway to the door before Ran had even gotten to her feet. He yanked the front door open.

"Oi, what the hell do you think you're—oh, _shit._ "

Kai pushed past Hattori, unintentionally(?) stepping on Hattori's foot as he did so. As per usual, he was wearing his Kaitou Kid backpack and other dumb merchandise, but it was summerwear today—a red Kamen Yaiba tank top, blue denim knee shorts and, for some unfathomable reason, bright pink crocs. Cradled to his chest was a football that Conan assumed was designed to look like a Poké Ball, except where Poké Balls were red, this one was dark blue and purple.

He raised an eyebrow. "A Poké Ball?"

Kai scoffed. "Ha, as if. This is a _Master Ball,_ Co-chan. Poké Balls are for amateurs."

"Same difference," Conan said.

He could've sworn that Kai's eye twitched just then, though nothing in the boy's expression suggested that he was anything but his usual chipper self. Even so, Conan could tell by the way Kai's Master Ball was trembling slightly in his arms that Kai was resisting the urge to strangle him.

Note to self: Poké Balls and Master Balls are apparently different.

"Anyway," Kai said, "It's a nice day, and I was bored, so I, uh, was wondering if you wanted to go to the park or something. I called Mitsuhiko and told him to invite the other Detective Boys, so we won't be alone. I heard you liked football, too, so I brought my Master Ball. I thought it'd be fun to enjoy the sunshine, 'tis all." He cast his gaze at the screen and blinked. "Unless you'd rather watch Magical Girl anime, that is."

"No!" Conan said hastily. "I didn't choose to watch this! It was Kazuha-neechan's idea, I swear!"

Somewhere in the background, Hattori snickered, earning a whack to the head for his troubles.

"Hey, I'm not judging," Kai said, shrugging. "Shoujo's cool. Ao—I mean, my sister always loved it. I used to watch it with her all the time."

Conan tried not let his surprise at being told such a personal piece of information show. Over the weeks he'd known Kai, he'd found that the other boy was incredibly secretive about his life before Hakuba. In fact, Conan hadn't even known the boy had a sister.

He spoke about her in the past tense, Conan noticed. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy towards the boy. Conan didn't have any siblings of his own—Ran was the closest thing he had to a sister—but he couldn't imagine losing Ran. It would be...Conan didn't even want to think about it.

"Why not?" Conan found himself saying. "It's not like I've got anything better to do."

Kai blinked, then broke into a delighted grin. "Cool!" Seizing Conan by the wrist, he dragged him towards the door, not waiting for Ran's permission. "Hurry up, then, Co-chan! We don't want to keep the others waiting!"

The moment Kai closed the front door behind them, though, Conan tugged his arm free. "What are you up to, Kai?"

Kai froze, that wide smile of his not leaving his features. "Huh? What do you mean? I already told you that we're going to the park to play football."

"If you wanted me to the go the park, you would have just forced me to go like you did last time," Conan said. "The fact that you asked my permission is weird in itself. And you've been acting strangely ever since you walked in. You're up to something." Seeing the near-imperceptible alarm in Kai's eyes, Conan felt his lips curl into a smug smile. "I'm a detective, Kai. I notice things."

"Of course you do," Kai muttered. He sighed. "Fine. I'm not technically supposed to be here."

Conan's eyebrows flew skywards. "Hakuba-san doesn't know you're here?"

"Well," Kai said. "He...kind of, sort of, maybe, might have...grounded me? Not exactly. But he's restricted all sorts of privileges because he's worried I might get lost or kidnapped or murdered or some shit—" Conan's eyebrows disappeared behind his fringe at the sudden curse word, but Kai just ploughed on, seemingly not thinking anything of it. "—and it's just like, you guys get to do tons of cool stuff! I mean, you even get to solve murders, for crying out loud! And I'm stuck asking permission to go to the corner shop, and even then I have to be 'supervised'. It's a freaking bore." He spun his football on one finger. "So I decided I wasn't going to put up with it anymore! I'm a free spirit, and I refuse to be contained! No authority can stop me; not Saguru-oniisan, not Kobayashi-sensei, not even the police! Especially not the police," he added after a moment's thought. "Anyway, from now I'm a rebellious spirit! Which means I'm not allowed to ask permission to go to the park."

For a minute, neither of them spoke. Then: "Especially not the police?"

Kai shrugged. "What can I say? I'm a Kid fan."

They started down the street, Kai slipping into conversation about something or other and Conan only half listening. The other half of his attention was focused on the near-constant buzzing of the phone in his right pocket, which was getting to be kind of irritating. He covertly slid it out and flipped it open, only to be met by at least three dozen texts from Hattori demanding his whereabouts and asking whether the 'pint-sized demon brat' was kidnapping him. He chuckled quietly to himself.

Unfortunately for him, Kai heard, and barely a second later, the phone had been swept from his hands. Kai wrinkled his nose upon seeing the texts. "Ugh. Not that Hattori guy again."

"Kai! What did I tell you about reading other people's texts?"

Kai payed him no mind. He blinked, then stared at the screen in confusion, his brows knitting tightly together. "I swear I locked your background," he murmured. "How'd you change it back so quickly?"

Conan's blood ran cold. The truth was, he hadn't changed his background at all—he hadn't been able to figure out for the life of him how to get past the lock Kai had put on it. It was still as bright pink and heart-themed as he had been the day before.

Except that background was on his Conan phone, and _that_ was tucked away in Conan's left pocket.

"That's none of your business," Conan said, panic leaking into his tone. He lunged forward, swiping at the phone, but Kai dodged out of the way with ease, almost as if he were used to situations such as this. "Give it back."

Kai scrolled through Conan's contacts, still muttering observations to himself. "The contacts are different. I don't see the Detective Boys. Ran-neechan doesn't have an honorific after her name. Neither does Sonoko-neechan. Or that Hattori guy, for that matter. And I didn't see Conan's parents' contacts before, eithe—"

Kai broke off as Conan flew at him, launching himself out of the way. "Give that back!" Conan hissed. He had to get that phone back—he _had_ to, before— Another lunge. Kai didn't dodge this one quite as easily, mainly due to the fact that his gaze was still fixated on the screen of Conan's phone. One last lunge and Conan finally succeeded in tackling Kai to the ground and wrestling the phone from his grasp.

"Ow!" Kai whined. "That hurt! Co-chan, you brute!"

Conan bristled. "Serves you right for stealing my phone!" he snapped. "What the hell was that for?"

"I just wanted to know how you'd gotten past my locks..." Kai said, his lip trembling slightly. Conan pointedly looked away. He refused to fall for one of Kai's guilt trips. "I wasn't expecting you to _assault_ me like that! Besides, I've already hacked your phone before. It isn't like I'm seeing much of anything new."

"I thought we were going to the park," Conan said abruptly. "You didn't want to keep the others waiting, remember?" And he stalked off, inwardly relieved that Kai hadn't noticed that he'd been browsing a different phone to the one he'd seen the day before.

* * *

"Conan-kun and Kai-kun are late."

Mitsuhiko glanced down at his watch. Ayumi was right; Kai had given a meeting time of nine o' clock. It was now quarter past and Kai and Conan were nowhere to be seen. He frowned. "I'm sure they'll arrive soon," he said, though he wasn't quite so sure himself. "Kai-kun said he would. We have to trust in his word."

Ayumi pouted, but didn't complain, shuffling along the bench to make more room. Three out of the four Detective Boys present were squashed together on a single shared bench—Genta being one of them, hence the word "squashed". Even Haibara had agreed to come along, although she was standing. Mitsuhiko had tried to give up his seat for her, but she had claimed she'd rather stand.

Haibara was like that; cool, beautiful and independent. It was one of the reasons Mitsuhiko liked her so much. Today, she wore a casual purple collared t-shirt and denim shorts, and she looked beautiful. So did Ayumi, for that matter. She had her hair tucked into her usual pink headband with a pink floral summer dress and pink sequined shoes, and she looked just as beautiful as Haibara, albeit in a different way.

The problem was, Mitsuhiko liked her too. He knew Ran had told him not to feel ashamed about liking two people, but he couldn't help but feel like he was doing something wrong somehow. He didn't know anyone else who liked two people, nor had he ever heard of such a person, so he couldn't help but feel like an outcast.

It wasn't like there was any point, anyway. Ayumi liked Conan, after all, and Haibara could never be interested in someone like him.

"I believe Edogawa-kun and Kurosawa-kun have finally arrived," Haibara said, nodding her head in the direction of two steadily-approaching figures. As the figures neared, Mitsuhiko began to make out familiar details—Kai's shock of dark hair, the curve of Conan's glasses, the blue of their eyes. Once they were barely a few metres away, Kai raised one arm in a friendly wave.

"Sorry we're late!" he called. "Co-chan brutally assaulted me, but I'm fine now!"

"Hey! Don't word it like that!" Conan elbowed Kai in the side.

Kai doubled over in pain, clutching at his side. "Ow! Not again, Co-chan! Why do you insist on hurting me all the time?"

Mitsuhiko sprang to his feet, ready to scold Conan for hurting a friend, but before he even had a chance to open his mouth, Kai straightened up, laughing, and Conan rolled his eyes, his lips twitching into a smile. Mitsuhiko stared, his brow furrowing in confusion. Had that been some kind of joke that Mitsuhiko hadn't understood? Had he missed a vital cue in the conversation? He frowned, biting his bottom lip, and kept quiet.

Kai and Conan finally stopped in front of the group, Conan with his hands nonchalantly in his pockets and Kai with an upbeat grin on his face. It was at this point that Mitsuhiko noticed the giant Master Ball in Kai's arms, and then proceeded to wonder how he'd missed it. It was actually rather exciting; he'd loved Pokémon for as long as he could remember, and to see merchandise in real life sparked his inner fanboy. He opened his mouth to remark on it, but before he could say anything, Genta butted in.

"Is that a Pokémon football?" Genta demanded, not giving Kai any time to reply before continuing. "That's so cool! Can we play with it?"

Kai blinked, pursed his lips, and reluctantly handed the ball over. "You can, but damage it in any way and I'll be forced to kill you."

Genta stared at him for a second, seemingly trying to figure out whether or not Kai was serious, and then seemed to decide it didn't matter. He ran off, yelling, "I'm on Mitsuhiko's team!" at the top of his lungs. Ayumi ran after him, Conan and Haibara following at a more leisurely pace.

Mitsuhiko gazed mournfully after the football. He hadn't even gotten to touch it.

"You can hold it later." Mitsuhiko jumped, whirling around to see Kai standing there, looking distinctly amused—despite the fact that Mitsuhiko was ninety nine percent certain he'd been standing beside Conan barely a second ago.

"W—When did you—? How did you—?"

"Magic," Kai said, conjuring up a baby pink rose and then making it disappear again. Mitsuhiko watched in awe, wondering yet again how on earth Kai had done that. Kai laughed. "You look pretty silly like that. Is that your thinking face?"

Mitsuhiko felt his cheeks burn. "I—I wasn't pulling a face!" he protested.

"You were, too," Kai insisted. "All detectives do. There are certain expressions that all detectives have. Like, they all have thinking faces, and they all have _I've-finally-figured-it-out faces_ , and they all have _I-know-something-you-don't-but-I'm-not-going-to-tell-you-cause-I'm-a-detective_ faces, and they all have _I'm-infinitely-smarter-than-you-mere-mortals_ faces."

Mitsuhiko smiled slightly. "We should probably catch up with the others," he said.

Kai pulled a face, and Mitsuhiko wondered whether or not he should point out the irony of it. "Do we have to?"

"You don't want to?"

"I don't actually like football," Kai admitted, shrugging. "Or any sport at all, for that matter. Apart from skiing. Skiing's cool. Anyway, I only really came here because I'm not allowed to."

Mitsuhiko nodded vaguely, trying not to let the fact that he didn't understand Kai's logic at all show. "Well, we should probably go anyway," he said, "if only to stop Genta permanently damaging the Master Ball."

"Oh, yeah." Kai started down the path. "That might be a good idea. Speaking of the Master Ball, you can hold it later if you want. That is," he added, "if it's still intact later."

"Thank you," Mitsuhiko said quietly, catching up with Kai and surveying him cautiously out of the corner of his eyes. How had Kai been able to tell earlier that he had wanted to hold the football? "I appreciate it."

Out of the blue, Kai launched himself into a neat cartwheel and landed on his two feet, spinning around to face Mitsuhiko again and beginning to walk backwards towards the others. "How old are you, anyway?" Kai asked, seeming genuinely curious.

"Um, seven."

"Huh." Kai eyed him thoughtfully. "You're pretty smart for a seven year old, you know."

Kai's comment caught Mitsuhiko a little off-guard. Weren't they the same age? No; Kai was a few months younger, wasn't he? So, what did he mean by…? "Well," he replied, choosing his words carefully, "I'd say you're rather intelligent for a six year old."

To Mitsuhiko's surprise, Kai giggled, as though Mitsuhiko had said something incredibly funny. Which couldn't be right, because Mitsuhiko didn't think he was a very funny person. "Yes, well, I've had a headstart," Kai said, his blue eyes sparkling, "so I'm kind of cheating."

Mitsuhiko didn't quite understand what that meant, either, but he liked the sound of Kai's laughter, so he didn't say anything.

* * *

 **There are so many characters involved that it's kind of difficult to keep track. It doesn't help that my brain is so cluttered. Anyway, I'm planning for Hattori and Hakuba to play a larger role in future, so you can look forward to a lot of clashes between the two. Because writing conflict is ridiculously fun, and Hattori + Hakuba = conflict.**


	12. Kai has a Horrible, Horrible Idea

**Disclaimer: I don't own Detective Conan.**

 **I'm back with another chapter, and I finally got to write Hakuba and Hattori interactions! Hurray!**

* * *

Sometimes, Conan wondered if he was cursed.

He'd long since gotten used to running into corpses everywhere he went, but after ten years of murder magnetism, one had to stop and wonder exactly _why_ a preternatural number of Japan's homicides occurred within ten feet of them. Probability clearly stated that the chances of this happening were minute—not even worth _considering_ —and yet it happened; which meant that there had to be some kind of supernatural force behind it. And at this point of reasoning, Conan's thought process hit an invisible brick wall, because he didn't believe in any of that supernatural drivel, which meant that the murders couldn't have a supernatural driving force, and yet they were beyond the realms of all that was real and natural, which meant that they _had_ to be supernatural, but he didn't believe in that so they _couldn't_ be supernatural, and so went his paradoxical reasoning.

All of this confusion could have easily been solved had he just given up on his firm disbelief in the supernatural, but that would also be giving up on everything he ever believed in, and that was something he absolutely refused to do. Even so, he was seriously considering getting exorcised or something. He was beginning to get a reputation among the police force as _Shinigami Junior_ —Shinigami Senior, of course, being Kudo Shinichi.

It was odd, though, that he was only beginning to think about this a decade after the phenomena began. It was just that, for as long as he could remember, death had been the norm. He stepped outside; someone died. He went on holiday; someone died. He went to the _local park_ ; someone died. It was normal for him, so he'd never stopped to question it.

How did the saying go? You never know what you have until it's gone? Something like that. That was probably why. Because it'd been a week and nobody had dropped dead and Conan was beginning to suspect Kai had something to do with it.

He couldn't jump to conclusions, of course; if detectives seized onto the first explanation that popped into their minds and clung to it, countless innocents would be unjustly imprisoned and countless murderers would go free. He had to think it through and weigh up the evidence.

Exactly a week ago, Conan had met Kai at a Kamen Yaiba festival. Exactly a week ago, the murders had stopped occurring. A correlation—but correlation did not imply causation. There was no proof that Kai had caused the lack of murders, and no conceivable way that Kai _could_ have caused it, so, for now, Conan would let the hypothesis drop.

But he would not forget it. Oh, he would not forg—wait, was that a footb—

 _THWACK._

"Conan-kun!" Ayumi ran to his side, wailing and flapping her arms like a panicked chicken. "Conan-kun, are you okay? I'm so sorry—I didn't mean to hit you with the ball, really, I didn't! Conan-kun!"

"Ow," Conan muttered, propping himself up on his elbows. Shuffling into a sitting position, he rubbed at his aching head and gave Ayumi a reassuring smile. "Don't worry about it. It's not your fault; I should have been paying attention."

Kai whistled, sauntering up to Conan with the rest of the group in tow. Unlike the Detective Boys, he and Haibara didn't look at all concerned about his well-being—Haibara's lips were quirked slightly upwards at the corner, and her eyes flashed with a sadistic kind of amusement, while Kai had his hands in his pocket, eyebrows raised high as though he were actually impressed by the ordeal. "Whoa, Ayumi-chan," Kai said, kneeling down beside Conan and prodding at the sore spot on his head—Conan winced, but Kai either didn't notice or didn't care. "I didn't know you could kick that hard. Co-chan's going to have a bruise the size of Jupiter tomorrow." He tilted his head, a wicked grin warping his expression. "He might even have a concussion. Do you know what that means?"

Ayumi swallowed. "W—What?" All three of the Detective Boys watched Kai warily, Mitsuhiko even going so far as to take a step back, as if they could sense the vicious edge to Kai's tone. Even Conan felt a little nervous. He inched away.

"It means," Kai said, "he's now our patient. Naturally, I get to be the doctor. Ayumi—" He swung around to point at her, and she flinched. "—you get to be the nurse. You too, Mitsuhiko. You can both be nurses."

"Huh?" Mitsuhiko yelped. "Why do _I_ have to be a nurse?"

"Would you rather be demoted to a servant, like Genta?" Genta opened his mouth to protest, but Kai cut him off. "Hush, Genta. I'd appreciate it if you co-operated, for our patient's sake. Nurses, servant, carry the patient back to the hospital. We need to get him to bed."

Ayumi and Mitsuhiko seemed relieved that Kai's devious plan had merely been a game of doctors and nurses, and obediently lifted Conan up by the arms. Genta, apparently still annoyed at being called a servant, stubbornly remained where he was.

After the designated nurses had dragged Conan two metres or so, the whole time of which Conan had protested that his legs were working fine and he could walk on his own, thank you very much, Ayumi dropped Conan's arm, seemingly realising something. "What about Ai-chan? Doesn't she get a job?"

"Hm." Kai brought a contemplative hand to his chin. "You." He jabbed a finger in Haibara's direction. "Your job is to murmur snarky taunts in Conan's ear and generally make his stay at Kamen Yaiba Hospital the worst possible experience ever."

"Kai, what the hell—?"

"Sounds like my dream job," Haibara remarked. She sidled up to Conan. "Though, I don't think Edogawa-kun needs me to make him miserable—his existence is miserable enough as it is."

As Conan spluttered and shot her an indignant glare, Kai clapped her on the shoulder. "Fabulous, Ai-chan," he said appreciatively. "Keep it up and I might even give you a promotion."

Haibara didn't even fly into a cold rage at being called 'Ai-chan', seemingly too pleased about having a golden opportunity to torment Conan without consequence. No doubt about it—Haibara was _made_ for this job.

"Nurses, carry the patient to the hospital bed," Kai ordered, gesturing somewhere across the park.

Mitsuhiko frowned, his forehead creasing as he squinted in the direction of Kai's pointing. "You mean that park bench over there?"

"No, I mean the hospital bed."

Ayumi and Mitsuhiko exchanged dubious looks, but obeyed. As Ayumi and Mitsuhiko pulled Conan over to the park bench and sat him down, Kai pulled a wad of yen notes out of his pocket and thrust them at Genta. "You, servant—head down to the convenience store and buy a packet of frozen peas. Oh, and an ice-cream, too. Preferably with lots of chocolate."

"For Conan-kun?" Mitsuhiko asked.

"For me," Kai clarified.

"But that ain't fair!" Genta protested, crossing his arms over his chest. "I want ice-cream, too."

"Too bad," Kai said. "Besides, it'd do you good to lay off sweets."

"Oi! What's that supposed to mean?"

"Kai-kun!" Ayumi piped up. "I want ice-cream, too! Can I have ice-cream? Please?"

Kai turned to her, blinking. Then his stern doctor facade dissipated, replaced by something softer, fonder. "Of course you can, Ayumi-chan. Which flavour?"

"Um...raspberry ripple!"

Genta scowled. "Hey, wait! How come she gets ice-cream and I don't?"

"Because it's impossible to say no to Ayumi," Kai said simply, and Conan had to admit, he had a point. "But fine. You can have ice-cream, too, servant— _if_ you ask nicely."

"Please," Genta said, though he didn't seem to mean it at all. In fact, he rather looked like he wanted to strangle Kai with his shoelaces—nothing new there. Kai tended to have that effect on people. Or maybe that was just Conan. He wasn't sure.

"Good," Kai said. He turned to Haibara. "Ai-chan! Do you want ice-cream?"

Haibara declined, gracefully, of course, because somehow she managed to make her every movement as intimidatingly elegant as a...as a…a...

No words could describe Haibara's brand of intimidating.

Soon after that, Kai spoke a few quiet words to Genta, who nodded and disappeared off, presumably to buy ice-cream.

Ayumi took the space to Conan's left on the bench, Mitsuhiko claiming his right side. "Isn't this great, Conan?" she said brightly. "We got to play football, and now we get to eat ice-cream, too!"

Conan was about to point out that Ayumi, Genta and Kai were the only ones getting ice-cream in the group, but he caught himself upon noticing Mitsuhiko gazing wistfully after Genta's retreating figure, as though he wanted ice-cream too but didn't feel comfortable asking. Conan sighed, and gently nudged Mitsuhiko in the arm to catch his attention. "If you want an ice-cream, just ask. Kai won't mind."

"I—I can't do that," Mitsuhiko said, biting his lower lip. "That would be rude. And besides, it's up to Kai who he spends his money on. If he wanted to, he would have asked."

Awkwardly, Conan patted Mitsuhiko's shoulder in a manner he hoped was comforting. "If it makes you feel any better, he didn't offer me ice-cream, either."

Mitsuhiko shot him a strange look, but didn't say anything. It was Ayumi who spoke next. "Well, it's 'cause he likes you two, isn't it?"

"Huh?"

Ayumi hummed, seeming a little surprised. "Haven't you noticed?" she asked. "Maybe it's just me, but Kai-kun seems like the kind of person who acts tsundere with the people he likes the most. Like, he's mean to them sometimes, but secretly he cares." She shook her head, and her bob of brown hair bounced with the movement. "Well, that's what I think, at least. I read a lot of manga, and that's usually how it is in fiction."

There was a brief pause. Then: "You think so?" asked Mitsuhiko, a little pink-cheeked.

"Yep." Ayumi hesitated, tapping a finger against her chin. "Actually, Conan-kun's kind of like that too. He tries to pretend he's all tough and macho, but he's actually really sweet and kind! Once, when he was late for school, he lied and said he overslept, but it was actually because he stopped to buy cat food for a stray cat—"

"The weather's nice today, isn't it?" Conan interrupted. "I've heard we'll be reaching highs of 20℃—"

"Wow, Co-chan, I didn't know you were such a secret sweetheart," came Kai's voice, tinged with amusement. Conan cursed under his breath. "Who would've thunk that all that snark was just a mask for your angelic nature?"

"Shut up," Conan said, blanching when something vibrant yellow appeared in his field of vision. "What the—"

"This one's for Co-chan," Kai said, moving the yellow object back out of Conan's face and waving it around. Now that it wasn't blocking his vision, Conan realised that it was a lemon popsicle, the kind he had loved as a kid. In his other hand, Kai held a strawberry ice-cream bar. "And this one's for Mitsuhiko."

Both boys stared up at him, Conan in disbelief, Mitsuhiko in confusion and barely-concealed joy. "You got me an ice-cream," Mitsuhiko said.

Kai tilted his head. "No duh. Why wouldn't I?"

"I don't know. I just thought you might have forgotten, or…" Mitsuhiko trailed off.

"Please. As if I'd forget my soon-to-be partner in crime."

Conan's eye twitched. "Are you referring to me or Mitsuhiko when you speak of a soon-to-be partner in crime?"

Kai shrugged. "Either will do, really. I feel like Mitsuhiko would be more cooperative, though." He tutted. "Honestly, you're such a handful sometimes, Co-chan."

" _I'm_ the handful?"

"Yes. That's what I said, isn't it? You really need to break out of this habit of repeating everything I say, Co-chan. It's getting really annoying."

Conan bit back a snide retort, inwardly seething.

Mitsuhiko looked between the two of them, confusion evident in his expression, but leaned forward and accepted his ice-cream. As he inspected it, his forehead creased in confusion. "But...how did you know strawberry was my favourite?"

Conan frowned. Come to think of it, how had Kai known lemon was _his_ favourite? He wouldn't put it past Kai to stalk him or something creepy and ridiculous like that, but Conan would surely have noticed Kai following him. A six-year-old couldn't have very much experience in effective spying.

"Because," Kai said by way of explanation, "I know everything."

"Um, that's not an answer, Kai-kun."

"I know," Kai said cheerfully. "I was kidding. You wrote about it in a school project on your personal lives a few weeks ago."

"B—But Kai-kun," Mitsuhiko said, "you weren't even in our class a few weeks ago."

Kai waved a dismissive hand. "Details."

Conan didn't even want to know.

Mitsuhiko, apparently, did. "But—"

"Excuse me, Nurse, I'm not paying you to question me."

"But you aren't paying us anyway—"

"I _said_ , stop questioning me!" Kai huffed, and Conan realised that, at some point in the last minute, a chocolate ice-cream bar had appeared in his hand. How he had missed that, Conan had no idea. He must have not been paying attention. "Anyway, it wouldn't be fair if I left you two out. Though," he added, "I _was_ thinking of only getting ice-cream for qualified hospital personnel and excluding Conan, since he's a patient and all, and patients should really stick to frozen peas, but then the angel on my shoulder was like, 'Kai, Kai, you can't do that! That would be mean!' and so I asked Genta to get you both ice-creams."

All three bench-sitters stared at Kai for a moment. Then, Mitsuhiko cleared his throat. "Well, thank you, Kai-kun," he said. "You really weren't obliged to buy me anything, and I really am grateful."

"There's no need to be so formal with me," Kai said amusedly. "We're friends, aren't we? It's kind of weird."

Mitsuhiko bit his lower lip, his forehead crumpling. His free hand toyed with the fabric of his shirt. "Does it sound silly?"

"Whoa, chill, I didn't mean _that_ kind of weird!" Kai said hastily, holding up both hands in a placating gesture. Conan vaguely wondered where the ice-cream had disappeared off to, but decided not to question it. His faith in scientific laws was already being pushed to the limit; if he thought too hard about it, his brain might finally break. "I meant a _good_ kind of weird."

"Oh. I see." Mitsuhiko hurriedly bit into his ice-cream.

"Now; time to treat our patient." Kai clapped his hands together. "Servant! Bring me the frozen peas!"

Conan blinked, lifting a hand to touch his forehead. He'd almost forgotten the pounding in his head, Kai having temporarily distracted him from it with his idiocy. Now, though, the pain returned full force. He winced. Frozen peas sounded really nice right now.

An icy pressure met his forehead. The effect was immediate. The damp cold soaked into his skin, numbing and soothing his throbbing head.

"Feel any better?" Kai asked. Conan nodded, and Kai's face lit up. "Cool! Maybe I should become a doctor instead of a magician!" He paused, seeming to consider, then shook his head. "Yeah, _no_." Then he grinned. "Wait! Servant! I just had a genius idea!"

Conan, Ayumi and Mitsuhiko all shuddered. Coming from someone like Kai, a "genius idea" couldn't bode well for them. Genta trudged over, a scowl marring his features. "What?"

"I need you to go to back to the convenience store—" Genta groaned. "—and buy as many cans of the sugariest drink there as you carry."

Genta wrinkled his nose. "Huh? Why d'you want that?"

"It's a Western thing I read about in a magazine once," Kai said. "In America, people drink soda when they're sick, and I think in England they drink some kind of energy drink. It's supposed to help you feel better."

Mitsuhiko looked sceptical. "That doesn't sound like it'd work. Aren't soft drinks bad for you?"

"Are you sure that's true, Kai-kun?" Ayumi asked doubtfully.

"It's true." Everyone turned to look at Haibara, who was leaning casually against a tree. "I spent some time in America as a child, and my mother was English. I can assure you, it's true."

"Westerners really are strange…" Mitsuhiko mused.

"But is Conan really sick?" Ayumi asked. "You said he had a concasso—" ("A concussion, Ayumi-chan," Mitsuhiko corrected.) "—didn't you? Does that count as being sick?"

Kai shrugged. "I'm guessing Westerners usually use it for stomach aches, but I figured if it works for that, it might help relieve Conan's symptoms, too. It's worth a try, anyway."

Ayumi and Mitsuhiko nodded.

In Conan's opinion, this was the dumbest idea he'd ever heard, and Westerners were crazy. But of course, when he volunteered his opinion, Kai pointedly ignored him and sent Genta off to buy a stack of soft drink cans.

When Genta returned, he was struggling with three shopping bags, full to the brim with cans of liquid sugar. Kai pulled a six-pack of fizzy orange out and tossed a can to each of the Detective Boys and Conan, keeping a can for himself. "Drink."

"I'm not allowed fizzy drinks," Ayumi said, but she took a tentative sip. Genta drank without hesitation, and Mitsuhiko followed suit. Over by her tree, Haibara lifted the ring on her can but didn't drink, eyeing Conan expectantly. Kai downed his can in a matter of minutes and reached for another one.

Conan pulled a face. "I don't like soda," he lied. He had a feeling if started drinking, Kai wouldn't let him stop until he puked. He crossed his fingers behind his back, hoping Kai wouldn't persist further.

Kai fixed him with a dangerous glare. "I said _, drink_."

Conan should have known it wouldn't be so easy. He sighed and tipped back the orange liquid, resigning himself to his fate.

* * *

"I'm sorry, Hakuba-kun, but Kai-kun left with Conan-kun to go the park about an hour ago. He's not here."

Saguru sighed, raking a hand through his hair. "All right. Thank you, Mouri-san. I'll search for him at the park."

He'd suspected the moment he'd found Kai's room empty that morning that Kai had run off with Conan, and his suspicions had been further confirmed when he'd found the note Kai had left on the kitchen table:

 _To Saguru-oniisan,_

 _Co-chan and I are eloping to Switzerland. Please do not attempt to follow us._

 _\- Kai :)_

That was when Saguru had decided to pay the Mouri Detective Agency a visit, in case Kai was there. He hadn't been, unfortunately, but at least Ran had been able to point him in the right direction. The trip hadn't been completely pointless, then.

He turned to leave, but Ran stopped him before he could take a single step. "Wait! Aoko-chan told me we have to exchange numbers!"

Saguru halted, and turned back to face Ran. "And why is that, may I ask?"

"Because Conan-kun and Kai-kun have been getting quite close recently, it would be best if we had a way to contact each other in case things like this happen again," Ran said. "That, and Aoko-chan said we should probably get to know each other in case they get married in future and we become siblings-in-law or something."

Saguru almost lost his composure at that last sentence. Kai and Conan getting married—the mere _notion_ was ludicrous. They were as different as night and day; it would almost be like himself and Kuroba ever marrying in future.

That was, if Kuroba even _had_ a future anymore.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Saguru forced a smile. "Indeed," he said, pulling out his mobile phone. "In the event of a future marriage, it would be useful to be in possession of each other's contact details."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! What's this about marriage?"

Saguru's mood promptly turned sour as Hattori appeared beside Ran in the doorway, wearing his idiotic baseball cap as usual. "Nothing that concerns you," he said airily. "Now, I'd appreciate it if you left. Mouri-san and I were just exchanging numbers."

Hattori wrinkled his nose. "What're you doing _that_ for? Oi, don't tell me _you two_ are getting married!"

Saguru bristled. "We're doing nothing of the sort," he said through gritted teeth. "Now _leave_."

"Not until you answer my question. What's this about marriage?"

"We're just making sure we're prepared for a future wedding," Ran said, a fond smile turning up her lips at the corners. "Kai and Conan are really cute together, and it's obvious Kai has a crush on him. Why else would he barge in at eight in the morning to personally invite Conan to play football with him? And he calls him his soulmate, too! Kazuha-chan, Aoko-chan and I all support them."

Hattori's reaction to this was one of abject horror. "What the hell? You mean—oh, ew, no way—that pint-sized demon kid and Ku— _Conan?_ That's—no. Just no. You." He pointed at Saguru. Saguru ground his teeth; did _nobody_ possess manners nowadays? "You're going to the park right now, right?"

"I am," Saguru said.

"I'm going with you." Saguru must have pulled a face, because Hattori scowled and said, "Look, I don't want to see your ugly face any more than you want to see mine. I'm only coming because Conan-kun needs rescuing from that freak of yours."

"Kai-kun is _not_ a freak," Saguru ground out, his fists clenching at his sides. Words could not describe how much he longed to punch Hattori right then. The only reason he hadn't yet was because Ran was watching, and he'd rather not look like a brute in front of her. That, and the fact that unlike _somebody_ , he was a gentleman, and gentlemen tended to avoid physical confrontation.

Hattori snorted. "Well, he's definitely no angel, that's for sure." He stepped outside, sending Ran a brief wave, and started down the stairs. "You coming or what?"

Seething, Saguru followed him down the steps and out onto the pavement. Together, they walked in the direction of Beika park, weaving through bustling crowds of people enjoying the summer sun. Neither of them spoke to each other until the park came into view.

"Shouldn't take long for us to get there," Hattori said, glancing at his watch. "Y'know, I think I'm gonna call Ku—Conan-kun." Saguru raised an eyebrow at the slip-up, but didn't question it. Calling Conan wasn't a horrible idea, which was surprising, considering the fact that _Hattori_ had thought of it.

Scrolling through his contacts to the C's took Hattori a while, and Saguru stubbornly refused to envy the number of friends Hattori seemed to have. Saguru himself only had six contacts; his mother, his father, Baaya, Aoko, Kai, and Conan. He turned his attention back to Hattori, who had dialled Conan's number and was turning on speakerphone—also surprising, since Saguru hadn't thought Hattori was capable of being thoughtful enough to take into consideration the fact that Saguru might want to hear the conversation as well.

Hattori ducked into an alleyway as Conan picked up, and Saguru followed. "Yo, Conan-kun," he said. "How's things at the park?"

Saguru resisted the urge to correct Hattori's grammar, instead listening out for Conan's response. A voice did respond a few moments later—but it certainly wasn't Conan's. It was a girl's voice, smooth and calm. "I'm afraid Edogawa-kun isn't in any state to be answering the phone," she drawled. "Neither are the rest of the Detective Boys, really."

Saguru's blood ran cold, and, if his expression was anything to go by, Hattori was just as horrified. "What the hell's that supposed to mean?" he demanded. "What's going on over there?"

"You'll see," the girl said, and the line went dead.

Saguru and Hattori glanced at one another, and, as though a telepathic cue had been shared between them, both simultaneously broke into a run. They tore down the street and through the park entrance, scanning the area for any sign of the children. Saguru's thoughts were frantic, endless possibilities filtering through his head; what if Kai was hurt or dead or—

"There!" Hattori yelled, pointing. Twenty metres or so away, six small figures were scattered around a park bench, three empty bags lying discarded on the ground nearby. One lay on the bench, another on the ground, both groaning and clutching their stomachs. A third figure, a girl, judging by her pink dress, was crying and swiping at her eyes, while the fourth figure desperately tried to comfort her. The fifth figure leaned against a tree, sipping something from a can. The sixth figure was perched on a tree branch several metres above the ground, alarmingly seeming to be _vibrating._ Every once in a while, the sixth figure would spasm and nearly fall off the branch, and then start laughing uncontrollably. Cans were strewn everywhere.

Hattori and Saguru rushed towards the scene, Hattori moving to Conan's side. He had been the figure on the bench, apparently. Kai, unfortunately, had been the one up the tree—and he seemed on the verge of a seizure.

"Kai-kun! What are you doing up there?"

Kai giggled. "N–n–n–nothing! It's just Ai-chan dared me to climb a tree so I said yeah cause I'm really really cool like that and and and I did it and now I can't get down and has anyone ever told you you're really really really tall?"

Hattori stared up at Kai, then glanced at the various cans scattering the vicinity. Fortunately, most were unopened, so Kai probably hadn't drunk enough for it to be dangerous. Well, not enough to be dangerous in itself—there was a very real possibility of Kai falling out of the tree and breaking his neck.

"Listen, Kai-kun," he said carefully. "I'm going to get you down from there, so try not to move too much, okay?"

Kai shivered. "Don't touch me bastard I'll have you know I can get down all by myself you just watch."

"N–now, Kai-kun, let's not be too hasty," Saguru said quickly. "You don't need to prove anything. I'm just making sure you don't get hurt. We wouldn't want you getting hurt now, would we?"

A pained groan cut through the air. "My stomach hurts…" the rather large child lying on the ground grunted. "I _knew_ all that soda was a bad idea."

"Never again," Conan moaned, curling inward on himself. " _Never_ again."

"How much of this stuff did you guys even drink?" Hattori asked, holding up an empty can of lemonade.

The girl wearing the pink summer dress hiccuped. A skinny, freckled boy stepped forward. "I've only had two. Ayumi-chan's had one. Haibara-san's had two, and Conan-kun's had three and a half." He pointed to a can on the ground, which was spilling out some kind of bright green liquid. "He never finished his last can. Genta-kun's had three, and Kai-kun… I'm not sure."

Saguru nodded. From what he'd seen, this boy seemed the most responsible of the group. "This _has_ to be beyond their recommended daily caffeine limit," Saguru muttered. "What on Earth possessed them to drink this much?" He lifted his arms upwards and reached up for Kai. "I'm getting you down, Kai-kun. _Keep still._ "

Kai being Kai, he did _not_ keep still. In fact, he went and did the exact opposite; he edged away from Saguru's outstretched arms and toppled off the branch. He seemed to fall almost in slow motion as Saguru watched on in horror, unable to do a thing—and then all of a sudden Hattori was there, holding Kai safe and sound in his arms.

"Seriously, man," Hattori said. "Didn't I tell you earlier? This kid is a troublemaker."

Kai hiccuped, struggled out of Hattori's grip and kicked his shin. Hattori yelped. "Ow! What the—shouldn't we get him medical attention? That much soda can't be good for him."

Saguru quickly counted up the number of empty cans and subtracted the number that the rest of the children had drunk. "He'll likely be fine," he said, glancing over at Kai. "He ingested four cans worth. It certainly isn't _good_ for him, but it shouldn't have any long-term repercussions. He'll just feel very, very ill for a while." He turned his back attention over to Hattori, and cleared his throat. "Thank you."

"Huh?" Hattori raised an eyebrow. "What are you thanking me for?"

"For catching Kai-kun just now," Saguru said, tugging uncomfortably on his earlobe. "He could have been seriously hurt. I—I genuinely appreciate it."

Hattori scowled and looked away. "You don't need to thank me or anything. As if I'd let a kid get hurt on my watch, even if they _are_ secretly evil. Just do me a favour, 'kay?"

"Hm?"

"Never thank me again," Hattori said with a shudder. "Seriously, _don't._ It's awkward as hell."

"I'll take note of that," Saguru said, but he privately agreed. Expressing his gratitude towards his nemesis was _not_ something he planned on doing ever again. "How did you catch Kai-kun in time, actually? Your reflexes were awfully fast."

"Kendo," was all Hattori replied with, shrugging.

"Well," Saguru said. "I think I'll be taking Kai-kun home now. How should we handle the other children? Perhaps we should call their parents."

The freckled boy nodded, pulling out his phone. "I can call Ayumi-chan, Genta-kun and my parents," he said. "Conan should have Ran-san's number on his phone. I think Haibara-san put it back in his backpack."

"I shall inform Mouri-san, then," Saguru said with a sigh. It was a shame he hadn't gotten around to exchanging numbers with Ran earlier; he disliked the thought of going through someone's possessions, child or not. "Hattori-kun, could you carry Conan back to the Agency?"

Though he seemed rather alarmed at being spoken to in such a civil manner, Hattori obliged, scooping Conan up into his arms. He whistled. "Whoa, Conan-kun. You really can't hold your soda, can you?"

Saguru could have sworn Conan murmured, "Shut up."

Unzipping Conan's backpack, Saguru methodically searched for a mobile. The main compartment contained only some mundane possessions—a box of matches, a torch, a notebook and pen and a water bottle—but a search of the front compartment revealed not one, but two phones.

Saguru blinked, his brow furrowing. Was it normal for children to possess more than one mobile phone? He'd heard of adults owning personal use phones and work phones, but _children?_ Frowning, he debated on which to use, eventually deciding on trying both and attempting to deduce which phone was personal use.

The first phone displayed a bright pink background when turned on, and it briefly crossed Saguru's mind that this was exactly the kind of prank Kuroba would pull on a classmate. The second phone had a rather plain background; one of the default ones that came with a new phone. Both phones asked for a passcode, but that had been easy enough to deduce (4869, the same as Saguru's own. Saguru made a mental note to change his passcode to something that wasn't an obvious pun on the word Sherlock). Once he was inside, though, the Contact lists proved to be rather different.

The pink themed phone's contacts seemed more or less normal, with contacts such as ' **Ran-neechan'** and ' **Ayumi-chan'** and ' **Mitsuhiko-kun'**. The other phone, however, struck Saguru as a tad _off_. For starters, the contacts were written incredibly informally—' **Ran-neechan'** became simply ' **Ran'** , while Hattori's contact was titled just that; ' **Hattori'**. Contacts that didn't exist on the other phone were on this one; ' **Okaa-san'** and ' **Otou-san'** , for example.

It was almost like this phone belonged to a whole different person.

"Oi, you calling 'Neechan or not?"

Assuming "'Neechan" to mean Ran, Saguru decided on the phone that addressed Ran as 'Ran-neechan' and dialled the number.

"Conan-kun?" came Ran's voice from the other end of the line.

"Mouri-san," Saguru said. "Conan-kun's feeling... rather unwell. Hattori-kun will be taking him home right away."

"Oh. I see. It isn't serious, is it?"

"Not at all. He'll be fine after a day's rest."

"Thank goodness. Well, thanks for telling me, Saguru-kun."

"Not a problem." Saguru hung up, slipping both phones back into Conan's backpack and handing it to Hattori. "Mouri-san is expecting him home."

Hattori nodded in acknowledgement. "Right. Well, see you around, bastard.

"Likewise," Saguru shot back.

From where he lay curled up in Hattori's arms, Conan mumbled, "Westerners are liars…"

Saguru didn't want to know.


	13. Chocolate, Coffee and Children's Games

**Disclaimer: So, just realised I only had to type this once at the beginning of the fic. I'll say it one last time: I don't own DCMK.**

 **This is the longest chapter so far** — **over 7000 words! Which is why it took so long to write. But it's here now!  
**

 **Also, thanks to everyone who followed, favourited or reviewed! You're the best!**

 **(Hetalia is still ruining me.)**

 **(Help.)**

* * *

The moment Hattori arrived back at the agency, he dumped Conan unceremoniously onto the sofa and headed off to the kitchen. As he started to pull open cupboards, searching for something or other, his voice drifted over to Conan. "You're an idiot, you know that, Kudo? Real dumb. How many cans did you drink again? Three? Three and a half?"

Conan groaned, burrowing into the sofa cushions. "Cut me some slack, Hattori. I feel like I'm dying."

"Yeah, well, whose fault is that, huh? Three feet tall and three and a half cans! How much sugar was in those three and a half cans, d'ya think? No wonder you feel like crap."

A distant part of Conan's brain wondered when Hattori had become the responsible one of the pair. Outwardly, he mumbled, "It wasn't not my fault. Kai made me. I couldn't say no."

China clinked over in the kitchen, followed by the sound of running water. "That's stupid. You could've said no. It's easy; a two letter word, _N-O_ —no."

"You don't understand," Conan said. "I _couldn't._ I'm telling you, it has to be witchcraft. I swear if it'd been anyone else I'd have said no."

The kettle began to boil. "You don't believe in witchcraft. And you're acting like a drunkard."

"Thanks a lot, Hattori. Way to make me feel better."

Ran chose that moment to walk in. Her eyes widened as she laid eyes on Conan, curled up on the sofa. "Conan-kun! Are you okay?" She hurried over to his side, kneeling down and placing a hand on his forehead. She frowned. "You don't have a fever. Did something happen?"

"Nothing much," Hattori said. "Just three and a half cans of soda."

"Three and a ha—Conan-kun!"

" _It wasn't my fault."_

"Sure it wasn't." Hattori re-entered the room, a cup of steaming hot tea in hand. "Since I'm such a great friend, I made you tea. It might help. It might not. I don't know. No one else I know has ever been dumb enough to drink three and a half cans of soda in under an hour."

"You're such a liar, Heiji," Kazuha said, poking her head into the room. "Remember when we were ten and I challenged you to a drink-off? You drank four cans of lemonade and had a stomach ache for days."

Conan snorted. Heiji shot him a glare and thrust the cup into his hands. "I made you tea. Shut up and appreciate it."

Ran pursed her lips. "I can't believe you, Conan-kun," she said. "I thought you'd know better than that."

"How many times do I have to say _it wasn't my fault!?"_

"Ha," Hattori said. "'Neechan, this is nothing next to Hakuba's brat. The kid drank four. Last I saw him, he was practically bouncing off the walls."

Ran looked horrified. " _Four?_ Is he okay?"

Hattori shrugged. "Pretty sure he's fine. But believe me, when that kid's caffeine buzz finally fizzles out, he's going to _crash and burn."_

* * *

Sunday morning was utter hell.

Kaito woke to a pounding headache and a sore throat. Propping himself up on his elbows, he peered around the room with bleary eyes. Even weeks after moving in with Hakuba, Kaito still couldn't get used to the fact that this was his new room. It was twice the size of his old room, with robin egg blue walls, a king sized bed and a flat screen TV; the kind of room people dreamed of having—and it was all wrong.

He slid out of bed, resolving not to think about it, and padded out the door and down the stairs. "Saguru-niisan!"

There was no response. He glanced at the clock as he entered the living room: _10:38._

One thing living with Hakuba had taught him was that Hakuba never slept in. Which, seeing as Hakuba also had no social life to speak of, left only one possibility; he was out solving another case.

Cursing Hakuba's ineptitude at being a responsible guardian, Kai poured himself a bowl of weird British cereal and sat down at the kitchen table. It wasn't like he could cook himself anything, being the height and size he was, and besides, he'd gotten used to it over the weeks. As he ate, he tried to remember what had given him this splitting headache.

Ah. Right. Four cans of soda.

Now that he thought about it, he couldn't remember walking back from the park. Hakuba must have carried him home.

Well, not home. Home was next-door to Aoko, eating her mediocre cooking and being yelled at for criticising it. Home was life-threatening mop chases and last minute homework; home was the giant photograph of his late father and Skype calls to his mother.

Home was soaring through the sky attached to a snowy white hangglider, his latest heist target clasped firmly in one gloved hand.  
Home was gone, and would be gone until he found an antidote to whatever had made him small. If there was an antidote, that was.

Sighing a little, Kaito squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed at his throbbing temple. He had resolved not to think of negative stuff like this, but when Hakuba was out assisting the police with cases, and his mansion was huge and empty and unexplored and _not home,_ it was difficult not to feel gloomy.

It was worse at night. That was when he'd lie awake and think on the cold emptiness in his chest and feel so, so lonely that it physically hurt.

Hm. Maybe he'd try prank calling Conan. That'd cheer him up. Could he even mimic voices now, actually? He hadn't tried since he'd shrunk. He quickly tried mimicking Conan's voice, and was delighted to find he could copy it exactly. That could come in handy.

Though now that he was prepubescent, mimicking adults was probably out of the question. A pity, really. The things he could do if he were capable of impersonating Hattori…

Speaking of which, was Conan's creepy older friend still in town, he wondered? A voice at the back of his mind whispered that Hattori probably wasn't as bad as he was making him out to be, but Kaito stubbornly ignored it. He didn't like Hattori, and he felt entitled to call him anything he pleased.

A sudden burst of pain shot through Kaito's head, and he winced. If this was what a hangover felt like, he was never drinking. Ever. The previous day was a caffeinated blur of sunshine and soda in his memory, though he was fairly certain he'd fallen out of a tree at some point.

Well, on the bright side, at least he didn't have to go to school. He had a full day to do nothing but browse the Internet, finish season 6 of Kamen Yaiba, and fight his pounding headache.

He spent most of the early hours of the morning doing exactly that, curled up on the sofa in his Gomera onesie with his phone and a mug of hot chocolate as the TV blared in the background. Months of practice meant he could browse the Kaitou Kid Tumblr tag while simultaneously tuning into what was happening onscreen with ease.

Kaito was halfway through a conspiracy theory on his own disappearance when the living room door opened and Hakuba walked in, carrying a familiar pile of documents.

"Kai-kun?" Kai frowned upon hearing Hakuba's voice; he'd been finding it difficult to get used to this new tone of Hakuba's. It was softer than Kaito had been accustomed to hearing at school when he had been seventeen—which he attributed to the fact that he had kind of been a major asshole to everyone as a teenager, and he and Hakuba hadn't gotten on at all.

You wouldn't have thought that Kuroba Kaito and Hakuba Saguru had any animosity between them at all though, looking at the way Hakuba's face was pinched and drained of colour, or the way his eyes were dull with exhaustion and rimmed with heavy bags, or the way he was gripping the police files on Kaito's disappearance so tightly to his chest that they were crumpling in his hands, as if he were afraid that they might disappear if he let go. Just like Kuroba Kaito did.

"Saguru-niichan!" Kaito's face moulded almost involuntarily into a seamless poker face, all bright eyes and sunny smiles. "You're home!"

Hakuba smiled back, a little strained. "I apologise for leaving you alone like this. I'm afraid I've been busy working on an important case recently; a missing persons one," he said, and Kaito couldn't help but wince because he knew exactly what case Hakuba was talking about. "I don't often work on locating missing people-I'm a homicide detective, you see-but this one is rather...personal."

Kaito only made a vague noise in reply, trying to squash the guilt bubbling up in his stomach. "It's okay!" he chirped, his persona as 'Kai' flowing as easily as breathing. Airheaded, bubbly, slightly absurd— "I'm fine on my own, anyway. I can make cereal and stuff, even if your British food is really weird."

Hakuba passed through the living room, glancing at the TV screen as he did so. He blinked and then sighed. "It's twenty four minutes and seventeen seconds past eleven in the morning. On a Saturday. Why are you rewatching season 6 episode 12 of Kamen Yaiba?"

Kaito shrugged. "I have to refresh my memory before I continue the season," he said. "Now hush. I'm reading."

Hakuba sighed. "May I ask _what_ you're reading?"

"You can _ask,_ " Kaito said. "Whether or not I tell you depends on how much I reckon you'll freak out if I do."

Hakuba disappeared into the kitchen. "I think I can handle it."

"If you say so. First of all, Saguru-niisan, have you ever heard of Tumblr?"

A beat passed. Then Hakuba's disembodied voice sounded again, vaguely disturbed. "Is that the site Kuroba-kun showed me with the homosexual 'fanart' of me and Kaitou Kid?"

"No," Kaito said. "Wait. Yes."

"I changed my mind. Do you want anything in particular for breakfast?"

"Chocolate cake."

"Kurosawa Kai-kun, for the fifty eighth time, chocolate cake does not make for a nutritional breakfast! I'll ask you again—and before you reply, chocolate cake is not an option—do you want anything in particular for breakfast?

"Fine. Chocolate cookies, then."

"Kai-kun!"

* * *

Suzuki Sonoko was mad. No, she was beyond mad. She was furious, irate, outraged, livid. And when Sonoko was this angry, people stopped in their tracks and listened to her—whether they wanted to or not.

"Now, now, Sonoko, calm down." Suzuki Jirokichi was saying placatingly. Behind him, the family maids cowered, broken cups of tea and freshly baked chocolate cookies lying scattered across the floor at their feet. They clutched now-empty silver trays to their chests—they had dropped the contents in shock when they heard Sonoko's first shriek. Briefly, Sonoko pondered what a waste of perfectly good cookies that had been, but quickly resumed her hissy fit. Cookies were less important than getting her way, after all, albeit only very slightly.

"CALM DOWN!? YOU WANT ME TO CALM DOWN!? I WILL NOT CALM DOWN IN THE FACE OF INJUSTICE!"

Jirokichi winced, his hands moving halfway to his ears, then stopping and returning to his sides. He was obviously forcing himself to regain his composure, a sight that left Sonoko feeling jubilant. Let him be uncomfortable; it served him right for accusing her Kid-sama like that!

Jirokichi cleared his throat. "Sonoko, I wasn't being unjust at all. We've seen neither hide nor hair of Kid since his last heist three weeks ago, and he still hasn't returned the Second Chance gemstone. I was simply suggesting that he had perhaps chosen to keep the heist target—"

"HA!" This time, Jirokichi couldn't stop his hands from flying to defend his eardrums. The maids retreated further backwards. Sonoko glared fiercely down at him (secretly glad that she hadn't inherited his short genes—looking down on people empowered her), her arms folded, her nose stuck haughtily upwards. She let out a derisive huff. "As if Kid-sama would really steal a gem!" she scoffed. "He's no common thief, you know! He has honour! He doesn't just _take_ stuff! He's good and smart and handsome and–"

"—and a criminal," Jirokichi pointed out.

Sonoko ignored him. "The point is, Kid-sama always returns the jewels he steals. He hasn't returned this one yet. Which means…"

"Uh… he's changed his mind?"

"NO!" Sonoko stomped her foot with such force that a tremor shook the ground. Maid #2 (Haruka, was it? Or Hideko, perhaps. Sonoko didn't tend to bother with names) stumbled, tripping into a puddle of dropped tea. As the other maids hurried to help their fallen colleague, Sonoko clutched at her chest dramatically. "Isn't it obvious! It means something terrible must have happened to my poor Kid-sama, rendering him unable to return the jewel! My Kid-sama is in trouble! He needs the help of Suzuki Sonoko, heiress and super sleuth."

Jirokichi, the old fool, looked unconvinced. "And how do you expect to find him?"

Sonoko clicked her tongue irritatedly, hands on her hips, the epitome of sophistication. Was _everyone_ but her (and Kid-sama, of course) a complete moron? "I've sent him a letter by dove, obviously. How else? All I have to do now is wait for a—"

The gentle thud of the post hitting the doormat sounded from the hallway.

"—reply…" She frowned. "I thought there was no post on Sundays."

Jirokichi looked just as confused. "There isn't."

Forgetting her anger for now, Sonoko padded over to the front door and picked up the envelope that had fallen through the letterbox. She turned it over in her hand, inspecting it closely. There was no stamp; that meant it had to have been hand delivered, didn't it? Pursing her lips, she carried the letter upstairs to her room and hopped onto her bed.

The letter was a gentle robin egg blue colour, with peppy ink doodles scribbled in each of the four corners. On the front in looping calligraphy was her name—Suzuki Sonoko. It was almost too pretty to ruin, Sonoko thought—but only almost. Pretty or not, to get to the letter inside, the envelope had to go. Tearing open the envelope, Sonoko eased the letter out and unfolded it. She skimmed the letter impatiently, dropping her gaze to the bottom where she knew the sender's name would be. Neatly written on the very last line, beside a tiny Kid doodle, were four words: _Yours truly, Kaitou Kid._

Sonoko's first reaction was to scream for five full minutes straight. Once she'd regained her composure, her second reaction was to speed-type out an urgent text and send it to Ran.

❋~o~❋~o~❋

 **To:** Ran

HE SENT ME A LETTER

❋~o~❋~o~❋

 **From:** Ran

Um. I have no idea what you're talking about.

❋~o~❋~o~❋

 **From:** Ran

Why are you texting me this early on a Saturday?

❋~o~❋~o~❋

 **To:** Ran

don't act like i'm disturbing u or anything it's not like u ever lie in

❋~o~❋~o~❋

 **To:** Ran

but anyway

❋~o~❋~o~❋

 **To:** Ran

KID-SAMA. SENT ME. A LETTER.

❋~o~❋~o~❋

 **To:** Ran

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

❋~o~❋~o~❋

 **To:** Ran

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

❋~o~❋~o~❋

 **To:** Ran

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

❋~o~❋~o~❋

 **From:** Ran

Are you done?

❋~o~❋~o~❋

 **To:** Ran

nearly

❋~o~❋~o~❋

 **To:** Ran

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH❋~o~❋~o~❋

 **To:** Ran

okay I'm done

❋~o~❋~o~❋

 **From:** Ran

Good. So what did he say?

❋~o~❋~o~❋

Sonoko paused. She hadn't read the actual content of the letter; the name at the end had been a little distracting. She quickly skimmed through it.

❋~o~❋~o~❋

 **To:** Ran

he said he's "unable to perform heists due to some unfortunate circumstances" whatever tht means. Oh and he said he appreciated my consideration and called me a beautiful lady.

❋~o~❋~o~❋

 **From:** Ran

Really? No way.

❋~o~❋~o~❋

 **To:** Ran

do you think he'd marry me if I asked really nicely

❋~o~❋~o~❋

 **From:** Ran

*cough cough*You have a boyfriend*cough cough*

❋~o~❋~o~❋

 **To:** Ran

oh yeah

❋~o~❋~o~❋

 **To:** Ran

forgot about him

❋~o~❋~o~❋

 **From:** Ran

What do you think he means by 'unfortunate circumstances'? That sounds kind of strange.

❋~o~❋~o~❋

 **To:** Ran

Dunno, does sound pretty shady tho

❋~o~❋~o~❋

 **From:** Ran

Maybe he really is in trouble...

❋~o~❋~o~❋

 **To:** Ran

I told u so, didn't I! I said my Kid-sama was in danger and u didn't believe me!

❋~o~❋~o~❋

 **From:** Ran

Sonoko...

❋~o~❋~o~❋

 **To:** Ran

Whatever. this just means I hav to rescue him even more now

❋~o~❋~o~❋

 **From:** Ran

...why?

❋~o~❋~o~❋

 **To:** Ran

Cuz. Suzuki Sonoko's bae's in danger and he needs me! I'm def not gonna let him down

❋~o~❋~o~❋

 **From:** Ran

If you say so. But don't do anything stupid.

❋~o~❋~o~❋

 **To:** Ran

when have I ever done anything stupid

❋~o~❋~o~❋

 **From:** Ran

Sonoko. I mean it.

❋~o~❋~o~❋

 **To:** Ran

yeah yeah sure whatever not gonna do anything dumb like die or whatever gotta go write a letter to my bae now byeeeeeeeeeeee! :)

❋~o~❋~o~❋

Hitting the send button with her thumb, Sonoko flung her phone onto the bed beside her. She jumped up, running across the bed like a ninja and making the grand leap from her mattress to the desk chair. The chair spun as her feet made contact, careering across the room and narrowly avoiding slamming into her dressing table. As the chair slowed, she pushed off from the wall with her feet, sending it gliding away. It drew to a stop in the exact right place behind her desk.

She beamed triumphantly to herself as she pulled open one of the desk drawers. Some of her Kid-sama's grace and good luck must have been rubbing off on her; she hadn't so much as _sprained_ anything this time. Last time she'd tried a stunt like that, she'd stubbed her big toe and twisted her ankle.

It had to be a good omen.

She eventually found what she was looking for at the bottom of the drawer—a letter-writing set she'd gotten for her birthday last year and never used because letter-writing was for nerds and losers (unless the letter was to or from her Kid-sama, in which case it was super elegant and refined). Her first letter to Kid had been pretty, but now that Sonoko knew he'd definitely be on the receiving end of it, she wanted to make it the prettiest thing he'd ever seen.

Deciding on a sheet of flower-patterned lined paper, Sonoko picked up her fountain pen and tapped it against her chin. She'd gotten this far already; this part was going to be easy.

Or so she'd thought.

As it turned out, writing the letter was the hardest part. The first one she'd sent to Kid had been carelessly scrawled on a sheet of pink origami paper, but this one had to be perfect. Two hours had passed since she had first picked up a pen and paper, —her bedroom floor was now strewn with crumpled balls of various patterned papers, the bin had long since overflowed and her desk looked like it was home to multiple paper-loving gerbils.

And she still had nothing.

Groaning, she slammed her head against the desk. How was she supposed to rescue her Kid-sama if she couldn't even write a letter? Every attempt she made either made her seem like a squealing, brainless fangirl (which she totally was _not_ ) or, on the opposite end of the spectrum, a boring nerd with no personality (which she would never be in any universe _ever_ ). She briefly considered calling the four-eyed brat over to help her—the geek undoubtedly had the entire dictionary memorised—but her pride wouldn't allow it. Suzuki Sonoko didn't need a five-year-old's, or however old that brat was, help.

However difficult the task was, she would accomplish it, because her Kid-sama needed her. She was certain of it.

 _Kid-sama, here I come._ Just as she lifted her pen once more, her bedroom door inched open with a quiet creak, and a timid face poked through the gap. "U-um… Sonoko-sama?"

"What?" Sonoko spun in her desk chair to glare at the intruder. It was Maid #2, a mousy girl who looked barely three years older than Sonoko, with long dark hair and brown eyes. There were still tea stains and biscuit crumbs on her uniform from when she'd fallen, and for a second Sonoko felt a little bad.

Only a second, though. Guilt was a waste of her precious time.

She cleared her throat. "I mean, hi, Hideko-san."

Hideko blinked, her lips curving downwards into a bewildered frown. "Oh, um… My name's Haruna."

Sonoko felt a blush creep up her cheeks, and quickly spun away to hide it from view. "Ah, right. Haruna-san. Sorry. You wanted something?"

"May I come in?" Haruna swallowed, stepping inside when Sonoko sighed and nodded. "I heard from Suzuki-sama that you were writing a letter to Kaitou Kid. I'm quite good at Japanese—or at least I think so—and so…I thought you might like some help?"

"Thanks for the offer, Haruna-san, but I'm fine on my own," Sonoko said haughtily. She picked up her pen and a fresh sheet of paper and started to draw squiggles across the page, hoping Haruna would think she was writing.

Unfortunately for Sonoko, Haruna took a step closer and peered at her page. "Sonoko-sama… I don't think that's how you write a letter."

Sonoko flushed fire engine red. She slammed down her pen so hard that Haruna flinched. "I get it, okay?" she snapped. "I'm no good at this sort of thing. I'm no good at much actually."

The room fell silent. For a long minute, neither of them spoke. Then, Haruna cleared her throat. "Sonoko-sama," she said. "My offer of assistance still stands."

Sonoko stared up at the maid, her pride and her determination locked in a fierce mental battle. Eventually, her determination won. "Thanks. I guess."

Sonoko didn't have many friends. Her only real friends were Ran, and possibly even Shinichi (although that detective freak was by far the most infuriating person she knew). That day, she gained one more—and she had to admit, it was kind of nice.

* * *

Finished letter safely tucked away in her handbag, Sonoko set out to locate a dove.

That part was surprisingly easy. All she had to do was to trek over to Nakamori-keibu's house in Ekoda, where, as expected, a spy dove was perched on the second-floor windowsill of the house next-door. It must have been taking a break from its spy duties, Sonoko supposed.

"Hey, you!" The dove seemed to look directly at her, then turn its head away as if dismissing her as just another boring human being. This irritated Sonoko to no end. She wasn't just some nobody, not worth noticing. She was Suzuki Sonoko, heiress and super sleuth, and she _would_ find her Kid-sama!

"Oi, you! Get down here!" When the dove still didn't respond, Sonoko stalked over to the nearest tree and started to shuffle up its trunk.

Climbing trees was a painful business; Sonoko _did not_ recommend it. By the time she reached the branch nearest to the window, her legs were scraped and bruised, her palms throbbed painfully and she swore she must have gotten about fifty thousand splinters. She didn't let that stop her. Crawling along the teetering branch and determinedly refusing to look down lest she lose her nerve, Sonoko drew the letter from her pocket alongside some red ribbon and clumsily tied the letter to the bird's leg (which, not surprisingly, had a camera attached). The dove was strangely obedient, and didn't panic or fly away, even when Sonoko almost fell on top of it. It must have been well-trained. Not surprising, considering Kid-sama trained it. After Sonoko was sure her knot was secure enough, she whispered, "Fly away, birdie. Go to your master!"

The dove blinked at her, tilting its head, almost as if analysing whether Sonoko were trustworthy or not. It seemed satisfied, though, as it flapped its wings and flew away as commanded.

Sonoko punched the air triumphantly, basking in her victory.

How she was going to get down, she had no idea, but she'd worry about that later.

* * *

"Nakamori-chan seems nice," Kazuha remarked, sipping at her tea. "Will she be coming back to visit today?"

Ran nodded, bustling about the kitchen with an apron on. Conan wasn't sure what she was making, but whatever it was, it smelt delicious. It was a pity he felt like someone was boring into his brain with a hand drill. "She doesn't live that far. We arranged to go bowling later, if you and Hattori-kun want to come."

"I want coffee."

"Conan-kun, for the millionth time, you can't have coffee! It'll stunt your growth!"

Conan groaned. All he wanted was a bit of coffee. Was that too much to ask? Delivering a sharp kick to Hattori's knee—the asshole was sniggering—he sullenly downed his tea. At least tea contained caffeine; it would help him stop feeling like such a zombie.

"Will Conan-kun be coming bowling with us?" Kazuha asked.

Hattori grinned. "Nope. He's solving a case with me, aren't you, Ku—I mean, Conan-kun?"

A bowl of vegetable soup slammed down onto the table, and both Conan and Hattori flinched. "Absolutely not," Ran said crisply. "Conan-kun will be coming bowling with us. You can solve murders while not in the presence of a young, impressionable child."

"What?" Hattori's jaw dropped. "But Ku–Conan-kun _has_ to come! We already agreed to have a deduction battle!"

Ran raised an eyebrow. "With a seven-year-old?"

"No!" Hattori said. "Well, yes. No. I don't know! That's not the point!"

"Ran-neechan, I really want to go!" Though it physically pained him to do so, Conan put on his best child-on-the-brink-of-a-temper-tantrum whine. It usually worked at convincing Ran to let him do things she didn't initially approve of. "Please!"

Shaking her head, Ran ladled soup into a bowl and set it down in front of Conan. "No, Conan-kun. I spoke to Aoko-chan earlier, and she told me that Hakuba-kun has voiced concerns about all these murder cases having a negative effect on your mental health. And he's right. I'd feel better if you didn't get involved with any more cases than you have to."

"But, Ran-neechan—"

"No buts," Ran said firmly, and Conan could tell from her tone of voice that her decision was final. "Now, why don't you come bowling with me and Kazuha-chan? If you want, I can ask Aoko-chan to bring Kai-kun! That way you can play together!"

"Please don't."

Ran frowned. "You're not being very nice about Kai-kun, Conan-kun," she said. "He obviously likes you a lot, and if you keep acting so cold towards him you'll hurt his feelings."

 _Urgh. Feelings._ Conan scowled, resting his head in his arms. Ran was always doing this; encouraging him to go out and play with his friends. No matter how much he protested, she never seemed to understand that he didn't _want_ to play with them. He was seventeen years old, for goodness' sake—he didn't want to _play_ with anyone! Especially not a group of children a decade younger than him, regardless of how much they'd grown on him.

It was kind of sad, actually—even as a child, he had no social life to speak of.

In the Mouri household, Ran's word was final. And so, an hour later, Conan found himself waving goodbye to Hattori as the other prepared to solve a case far more interesting than bowling.

"I still can't believe 'Neechan won't let you go," Hattori muttered moments before they parted, crouching down under the guise of ruffling Conan's hair. Not that he really needed to; Ran was on the phone with Sonoko, and Kazuha wasn't looking in their direction.

Conan slapped his hand away, saying, "Me neither. Solve this case for me, okay? I'll change Ran's mind. Just give me time."

"Yeah," Hattori said. He stood up, adjusting his backpack straps. "Well, good luck dealing with the microscopic horror."

Despite himself, Conan snorted. "What happened to 'pint-sized demon baby'?"

"Nah," Hattori said. "This one's way better. But seriously." His voice dropped in volume, suddenly low and grave. "There's something up with that kid. Keep an eye on him. I don't trust him one bit."

"Hattori," Conan said disbelievingly. "He's just a kid."

"I mean it, Kudo. My instincts are rarely ever wrong." With a quick tip of his hat, Hattori turned away, flashing one final smile. "Anyway, I'll be on my way now. Have fun bowling!"

"Have fun studying the rotting remains of a deceased human being!" Conan called cheerfully back.

"Conan-kun!"

"Sorry, Ran-neechan."

* * *

A few minutes later, Ran finally got off the phone to Sonoko. "She's stuck up a tree," she said, staring down at her phone in disbelief. "She's actually gotten herself stuck up a tree."

Conan laughed for ten minutes straight after hearing that, only stopping when Ran threatened to ground him for a week. Once he'd caught his breath again, he asked, "Does this mean she can't come bowling?"

"Unfortunately," Ran said, and Conan's heart did a gleeful backflip in his chest. "She's called her uncle and asked him to send someone to help her down, but she says the incident has 'traumatised her' and she needs 'time to recover'."

"That's a shame," Kazuha said with a frown.

"Yes," Conan said. "A real shame."

Ran glanced at him suspiciously, as though she could sense the dishonesty underlying his tone, but didn't remark on it. "We should get going. Aoko-chan says she'll meet us there with Kai-kun."

 _Right. Kai._

" _There's something up with that kid. Keep an eye on him. I don't trust him one bit."_

Conan pushed Hattori's words to the back his mind, but couldn't quash the uneasiness that rose up like bile in his throat.

* * *

The first thing Kai did when he saw Conan was to run at him and bowl him over with a flying tackle. "Co-chan! I haven't seen you in a whole day! I missed you so much!"

Words could not describe how humiliating that was; the girls all started cooing over them, and Hakuba just looked a strange combination of awkward and amused. Kai didn't seem at all bothered by the attention, and briefly Conan wondered if he was even capable of embarrassment.

Hakuba quickly said his goodbyes and excused himself, bringing up a visit he had to make. Kai waved enthusiastically, and Conan knew what exactly what he was doing—waiting. Sure enough, the moment Hakuba disappeared from view, Kai dropped his hand and turned to Conan with a wicked smile on his face.

Beaming, Kai forcibly linked their arms and dragged Conan off into the bowling alley. It was the only one in the town, an extension of the local shopping centre, so Conan had been there plenty as a kid, either with Ran and Sonoko or his parents. Kai, apparently, hadn't. As they crossed the lounge area with the girls in tow, he'd stop every time he saw something he thought was cool and gush about it for a full five minutes.

This wouldn't have been a problem, had Kai not found _literally everything in the building_ cool.

It took them a while to cross the lounge area.

Eventually, though, they did, if only because Conan at one point forced Kai into promising not to stop them anymore. Once they were through, Ran was assigned the task of getting everyone bowling shoes that fit, and they headed down to their booked lane.

Kai hummed the Kamen Yaiba theme song, his arm still looped around Conan as he walked. Then he stopped. Conan groaned. "Kai, I thought you said you weren't going to stop us anymore."

"I'm not stopping you. I'm deciding where we're going to sit."

Conan frowned. As per the norm, there were two long couches in front of their lane for people to sit on when they weren't bowling; these ones were vibrant orange. "There are only two seats to choose from."

"Yes, but I can't choose the wrong one," Kai said seriously. "So I'm waiting for the others to choose first."

Trying to wrap your head around Kai-logic was a sure-fire way to give yourself a headache, so Conan didn't bother. It was best to just let Kai do his thing and roll with the punches.

As soon as the others were sat down, Kai tugged Conan towards the unused couches and sat them both down. "Success~" he sang quietly, possibly to himself.

Conan asked about it anyway. "What's a success?"

Kai glanced at him, then pursed his lips contemplatively. Then he pointed at Aoko, who was sat on the other couch with Ran and Kazuha. "I didn't want to sit with Aoko-neechan."

"Why not?" Conan frowned. Kai had never seemed to particularly dislike Aoko; they simply hadn't interacted much.

He glanced fleetingly over at Aoko, before leaning in conspiratorially and whispering, "I don't like her seeing me." Pulling away, he beamed, tugged his hood over his head and resumed his upbeat humming.

Conan stared at him for a minute, before shaking his head.

He would never understand Kai.

" _There's something up with that kid."_

Conan slapped his forehead, eliciting a strange look from Kai. "Shut up, Hattori…" he muttered.

"What did Heiji-niisan say?" Kai asked, tilting his head.

"He said that you're annoying and that your hair looks like a bird's nest," Conan replied without missing a beat. "Oh, and he also says you have no fashion sense."

Kai pouted, tugging on the hem of his bright green Gomera hoodie. "It's not that I don't have any fashion sense," he said. "I just want to wear silly clothes while I can before I get too old and people expect me to conform to society."

Conan stared. Sometimes he forgot just how intelligent Kai was underneath his irritating cheer. "Did you just…?"

" _Keep an eye on him."_

"Nope!" Kai chimed, then frowned. "Ran-neechan looks sad."

Ran was talking, he realised. Loudly. "Poor Aoko-chan!" she was saying, wearing her signature _you-are-suffering-and-I-am-an-angel_ expression.

Glancing curiously over at them, Conan raised an eyebrow. Kai followed Conan's gaze, and they exchanged curious looks. Together, they wandered over to the girls.

"What are you talking about?" Kai asked, hopping onto the couch beside Kazuha . He did a double take when he seemingly noticed for the first time that Aoko was crying, silent tears streaming down her face.

Ran sent a fleeting glance in Aoko's direction, as though asking for permission. Aoko nodded. "We're talking about Kuroba Kaito-san."

Kai twitched almost imperceptibly. "Oh," he said. " _That_ guy."

"Who's Kuroba Kaito?" Conan asked, frowning.

"Kuroba Kaito-san's a magician and Aoko's childhood friend, just like Shinichi is to me." Ran smiled. "Well, that's one thing we have in common—we both have vanishing best friends!"

Aoko giggled, managing a watery smile. "I guess so."

"Don't worry, Aoko-chan. I'm sure he'll come back," Ran said. Then she turned to Conan, adopting a more serious expression. "I'm surprised you haven't heard, Conan-kun. It's been all over the news recently."

Conan gave Ran a flat look. "You don't let me watch the news, Ran-neechan," he said. "You said it's not for children."

"Oh. Right."

Aoko smiled, her eyes still a little damp, and pulled a brown and pink floral bag—presumably hers—onto her lap. After a minute or so of rummaging inside, she withdrew a newspaper and handed it to Conan. "Here," she said. "I kept the article. It has his face on it, so..."

Before Conan could even catch a glimpse of the article, though, Kai had pounced on it and snatched it out of Conan's hands with a cry of, "Let me see!"

"Kai, give that back!" Conan snapped, reaching out to snatch the article back. Kai ignored him, turning on his heel and bolting. For a brief moment, Conan inwardly debated on whether it would be worth it to chase after him, but eventually, his curiosity won over, and he broke into a run.

Distantly, he heard Ran and Aoko call after them, but he didn't stop. Up ahead of him, Kai swerved out of the bowling alley and into the shopping centre, weaving around people's legs as he ran. Conan almost lost sight of him in the crowd, but then caught sight of a flash of vibrant green—Kai's hoodie—and barrelled after it.

When Kai finally stopped, it was in front of a café. Tossing the article aside, Kai seized Conan's wrist and dragged him forcefully inside. "I've been wanting chocolate all morning!" he said brightly. "Saguru-niisan said I wasn't allowed it for breakfast though, so I figured I'd get it while we were out. Do you want anything?"

"Coffee. Black."

While Kai was busy ordering for them both, Conan took the opportunity to slip outside and hunt down the article. After a few minutes of searching, he found it inside a plant pot.

The first thing Conan noticed about the article was the photograph. It was of a boy, about Conan's actual age, with dark blue-ish eyes and ridiculously messy brown hair that immediately brought Kai to mind—and a face startlingly like Shinichi's own.

Conan didn't have to read the rest of the article to figure out what was going on— a teenage magician who happened to look almost exactly like Kudo Shinichi, whose disappearance coincided with Kaitou Kid's final heist; without a doubt, this Kuroba Kaito guy was Kid.

The only question was, why had he gone missing—and where had he vanished off to?

"Co-chan! Get your butt back inside here right this minute!" Frowning, Conan folded up the article and stuffed it into his pocket, before making his way back into the café. He was met by a pouting Kai, a drink in each hand. "Sit."

They sat at a table near the back, and Conan started gulping down his coffee like his life depended on it. It took him a minute to realise that Kai wasn't drinking—just watching Conan with intense blue eyes.

"What?" Conan frowned at him, lowering his mug of coffee to the table. "Why are you staring?"

"You've been acting weird since you got here." Kaito swallowed a mouthful of hot chocolate and pulled a face. "Not sweet enough," he said, reaching for a sachet of sugar. He tore it open and emptied it into his drink, turning those inquisitive blue eyes back on Conan. "Talk to me, Conan. What's the problem?"

Conan didn't miss the lack of a cutesy nickname, but pretended not to notice. "Ran-neechan made me miss a case to come here."

He paused, waiting for Kai to say something. When it became clear that Kai was waiting for him to continue, he kept talking.

"Apparently Hakuba-san told her some crap about it damaging my mental health," he said, and then immediately felt bad about swearing in front of a child. "She said she doesn't want me getting involved with any more cases than is absolutely necessary." He sighed. "I don't think she understands how necessary all cases are for me."

Kaito hummed thoughtfully, bringing his hot chocolate to his lips again. He took a sip, swilled it around in his mouth and wrinkled his nose, placing the mug back down onto the table. "But you know," he said with a level tone that suggested one of two things to follow—an intelligent suggestion, or the absolute worst idea possible, "she can only stop you from solving cases she knows about."

Conan paused with his coffee halfway to his mouth. "Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?"

"That depends." Kai leaned forward. "What do you think I'm suggesting?"

"I think you're suggesting that I lie to Ran."

"Then yes," Kai said. "I am, in fact, suggesting what you think I'm suggesting."

Conan shook his head. "No. No way. I can't just—I can't just lie to her. That's not right."

"Come on." Kai dumped another sachet of sugar into his hot chocolate. "You can't honestly tell me you've never lied to her before."

"That's...That's not the point."

Kai took another sip of his hot chocolate. It must have been finally been sweet enough for him; he didn't so much as frown when it touched his lips. "Exactly. You've lied to her before. What makes this any different?"

"Before, it was necessary," Conan said, and quickly gulped down a mouthful of coffee to avoid having to say any more.

Kai seemed to wait a minute, as though expecting him to continue. When he didn't, Kai sighed, pushing his mug away and getting to his feet. "Something tells me she's not the only one you've lied to. You don't have to keep everything in, you know. There are people who want to help, if only you'd let them."

Conan's grip tightened around his mug. "You don't exactly wear your heart on your sleeve either."

"Touché," Kai said, amusement ghosting across his features. "How about we make a deal, then? A secret for a secret?"

"It's not that simple, Kai." _Our secrets are hardly on the same level._

"I thought you'd say something like that. If not a deal, how about a game? You try and figure out my secret, and I try and figure out yours? First one to figure out the other's secret wins."

"Don't," Conan said, and was taken-aback by how harsh his tone was. "Stay out of it, Kai. This isn't a game."

"Too late. The game's already begun." Sliding his phone out of his pocket, Kai glanced at the screen. "We should probably head back before Ran-neechan calls Saguru-niisan and he grounds me forever. I'm going to win, by the way!"

" _I don't trust him one bit."_

Conan felt sick.

* * *

The case itself had been easy enough to solve.

It was the person he'd run into after the case that surprised him.

Heiji had just planted one foot outside the door when the thundering of footsteps attracted his attention. Turning around, he came face-to-face with a rather desperate-looking Hakuba Saguru.

His mood darkened again, a sharp comment springing to his tongue. "What do you want, bastard? Did you stalk me here or what? Creep. I was just leaving, you know."

Hakuba's face contorted into the strangest expression; half-sour-lemon, half-kicked-puppy. "Listen, Hattori-san," he said, shuffling the crumpled papers in his hand awkwardly. "I'm aware that you and I... aren't exactly close."

Heiji just stared incredulously. "No shit, Sherlock. You're an asshole. We hate each other's guts." He threw a fleeting glance at the door he had been about to exit, before adding, "Get to the point before I decide that I have better things to do than listening to you talk."

To Heiji's surprise, Hakuba didn't even volley an indignant retort back at him. Then again, he was probably too busy looking immensely uncomfortable to come up with an adequate remark. "All right. The point. So, um. Though in the past I have insulted your skill as a detective multiple times, the truth is—" A moment of hesitation, followed by an almost pained, preparatory swallow. "—you...do possess some deductive talent. Possibly enough to rival my own."

What.

By this point, Heiji was beyond incredulous. His train of thought had officially derailed, skidded 54 metres and combusted, setting alight both his hippocampus and motor cortex, because had _Hakuba Saguru_ just paid him a compliment?

This day was getting weirder by the second.

"You're kidding, right?"

"I can assure you, this is no joke," Hakuba said through gritted teeth. His cheeks were redder than Heiji had ever seen them, his eyes glittering with a mixture of anger, frustration and mortification. "Believe me when I say this is as uncomfortable for me as it is for you. But it is necessary. I–I require your assistance with a case"

Expression sobering, Hakuba thrust the papers he'd been fiddling with into Heiji's hands.

They were the files for a missing persons case. In the top right hand corner was a photograph of a smiling teenage boy, about Heiji's age, with a mop of messy brown hair and eyes that might have been dark blue. Heiji vaguely recognised him from the news.

"'Kuroba Kaito'," he read aloud, before glancing up at Hakuba. "A classmate?"

Hakuba nodded stiffly. "Yes. He disappeared three weeks ago. The police haven't prioritised his case—a wealthy CEO's daughter went missing around the same time as him, you see. I've been reassured that most missing teenagers leave of their own will, and that he's likely perfectly fine, but..." His fists clenched at his sides. "...I believe that something's happened to him. Something bad."

Heiji stared some more, down at the case files, then up at Hakuba. "You want me to help you find him."

It wasn't a question.

"If you'd be so kind..." Hakuba said tentatively, as if he expected Heiji to announce his refusal and storm out right then. As if he thought his asking were futile. As if he thought Heiji didn't have the slightest amount of sympathy for a missing boy and his broken friend.

As if he thought Heiji didn't have a heart.

"Idiot," Heiji scoffed, and Hakuba's expression seemed to shatter into something resigned and hopeless. "What did you expect me to say? No? Of course I'll help you."

The complete and utter shock in Hakuba's dumbstruck expression made it totally worth it.


	14. Horoscopes and Abstract Art

By Sunday evening, Conan was exhausted. He was fairly certain Kai had cheated at bowling—don't ask him how—and the entire walk home, Sonoko had been gushing about her "Kid-sama" while Kai hummed the Kamen Yaiba theme song to himself. He hadn't had a moment of quiet to collect his thoughts all day, and all he really wanted right now was to collapse onto the sofa and complain to one of the only people he could be himself around.

It was just his luck that Hattori was out.

"He says the case ran on for longer than expected," Kazuha said, frowning down at her phone. She huffed. "Geez. I thought he was supposed to be some genius detective. What's taking him so long?"

Kai, who refused to go home, no matter how unsubtly Conan hinted at it, wasn't even bothering to hide his delight. "You mean he's not here? So I get Co-chan all to myself?"

Ran smiled fondly at him and shook her head. Conan didn't want to know what she was thinking. He grasped Kai's wrist and dragged him out of earshot of the girls.

He cleared his throat. "Uh, like I've said twenty-three times, it's getting kind of late," he tried. "Are you sure Hakuba-san isn't expecting you home?"

Kai shook his head. "Nope. Saguru-oniisan's busy with boring adult stuff. I think someone might've died or something." He paused. "You know, if I didn't know better, I'd have thought you were trying to get rid of me."

Was Kai being snarky, or was he truly that oblivious? Knowing Kai, it was probably the former, which made Conan feel kind of guilty. As exhausting as Kai was to be around, Conan didn't want to hurt the child's feelings. He likely already did that on a daily basis with his dismissive attitude.

"I'm not," Conan lied. "I was just wondering."

Kai glanced at him, frowned, then bit his lip. "Co-chan, I..." He wrung his hands, suddenly distressed, as though about to confess some huge secret. "I...I haven't done the maths homework."

Well. That was anticlimactic.

"What?"

"Nothing," Kai said. "Just that I should probably go do it. Unless you'll let me copy you?"

"No."

"Wow, okay." Kai pouted. "Some friend you are. Tell Ran-neechan, and Kazuha-neechan I said bye, and Sonoko-neechan, too. Oh, and tell Heiji-niisan he's a di—"

"The door's that way!" Conan spun Kai around and frog-marched him to the exit. "See you tomorrow. Night."

"Oh, uh, bye, Co-cha—" The door slammed shut in Kai's face.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Well. Okay then. That wasn't rude at all.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Kai didn't sit with them at lunch the next Monday.

It didn't exactly _upset_ Conan—it just bothered him a little, like an itch he couldn't quite get rid of. He tried his best to ignore that niggling feeling at the back of his mind, focusing his attention instead on a story Genta was telling about his neighbor's dog, but it refused to leave him alone.

He knew it sounded silly, but he'd kind of thought that Kai was his...well, his friend. Sure, the kid was undeniably annoying, and he was only six or something, but he was intelligent for his age, and his never-ending enthusiasm was a refreshing change to the grimness of crime scenes—not to mention the fact that Kai's presence seemed to be somehow counteracting the murders that followed Conan everywhere, however that worked. In a way, he kind of reminded Conan of Hattori—loud, cheerful and good-humoured, although, unlike Hattori, Kai was in possession of a brain-to-mouth filter, and looked before he leaped. Only very briefly, albeit, but the fact that he looked at all counted for something.

Kai also reminded him of somebody else, though Conan couldn't quite pinpoint who.

Besides, it wasn't like Conan had a wide selection of potential friendship candidates to choose from. Eighty per cent of his classmates didn't know their seven times tables; he'd done the maths during a particularly boring science lesson. Being reasonably smart for their ages (Genta not included), the Detective Boys were somewhat more bearable to hang out with, and Haibara was cool when she wasn't being busy being cryptic and mildly terrifying. But Kai—and Mitsuhiko, maybe, though he and Conan weren't particularly close—was the only child his physical age smart enough for Conan to intellectually connect with. And Conan had to admit, he missed that—it was the main reason he enjoyed spending time with Hattori, after all.

Point was, Conan had been hoping Kai could become their sixth ranger of sorts—another Detective Boy, maybe. Though, judging by Kai's Kaitou Kid backpack, he might not be so keen on the idea.

"Oi, Conan!" Genta's gravelly voice startled him out of his thoughts. "You're spacing out again! I'm _trying_ to tell a story here!"

"You've been telling a story for the past twenty minutes," Conan heard Mitsuhiko murmur—the other boy was evidently too polite (or afraid) to say it to Genta's face.

"Anyway," Genta said, and Conan was reminded oddly of Sonoko. "So I was walking down the street, and I saw this dog, right? Did I mention the dog?"

Mitsuhiko decimated a rice ball with his chopsticks, fuming. "Only about fifty times," he muttered, before saying, loud enough for Genta to hear this time, "I think you might have, Genta-kun."

Conan raised an eyebrow. Mitsuhiko had been in an uncharacteristically bad mood for the past forty-five minutes. All throughout lunch hour, he would throw hopeful glances towards Kai as though he expected the other boy to suddenly get up, walk over and start talking about phantom thieves or anime or murder or whatever inane topics children talked about nowadays. And, inevitably, when Kai didn't, Mitsuhiko's face would fall and he would return to staring disappointedly down at his rice and vegetables.

Come to think of it, Ayumi was acting strangely too, gazing off into the distance like she was thinking hard—which was definitely weird, because if there was one thing Conan had learnt from elementary school, it was that children just didn't _do_ deep thinking. It wasted precious time they could be spending contemplating more pressing issues, such as who got the first turn on the swings or whether or not toasters would eventually become intelligent enough to take over the world.

"—and so this dog, yeah? It had this real scary owner, like, _real_ scary. Real old too—over thirty! And I—"

Conan's attention strayed and returned to the other children sitting at the table. To his right, Ayumi was poking distractedly at her food with her chopsticks. Every once in a while, she'd cast a glance over at Kai, frown, and look away again. Did she and Mitsuhiko miss Kai, maybe? In Ayumi's case, it was unlikely, their only proper interactions being within the classroom. Mitsuhiko, however…

Ayumi let out a loud, despondent sigh, and Conan forgot all about Mitsuhiko. "Ayumi," he said, quietly so the boys wouldn't overhear. "You okay?"

Ayumi seemed to hesitate, before shaking her head. "It's nothing important. I was just thinking." She fell quiet again, resuming her staring.

Conan frowned, drumming his fingers against the tabletop. As far as he knew, Ayumi and Kai weren't close, so there was no reason for Ayumi's despondent sighs and wistful staring. Unless…? Conan knew what that implied, and he fervently hoped it didn't mean what he thought it meant.

"—and so, yeah, this dog, right, I was all like, "Yo, dog, what's your problem?" And it was all like, "Woof woof." And I was all like—"

"Are you and Kai-kun related?"

"Huh?" Conan blinked. "What? No! Who told you that?"

"It's just," Ayumi said, visibly distressed, "you two seem really close 'cause you're on a first name basis and he gives you nicknames and calls you _-chan_ even though he doesn't call any other guys _-chan_ and he hasn't even been at Teitan for long so you must've known him before he came to Teitan and, and, and—" She gasped for breath and motored onwards. "—and you hang out all the time and look just like each other like you could be twins you're so similar! So I just thought you have to be related, don't you?"

Conan took a minute to wrap his head around the notion. So. Ayumi thought he and Kai were...related? As in family? Why would she even think that? They weren't even that close...were they? The words 'Co-chan' and 'soulmates' immediately sprang to mind, and Conan groaned. "We aren't related, Ayumi, I swear. We're just...friends. I think. Maybe. I don't even know." God, being a child wasn't supposed to be this complicated.

Ayumi's face crumpled like paper. "You're lying," she said, pointing a finger at Conan. You're lying to Ayumi!" And then she started crying and everyone was staring and Mitsuhiko and Genta seemed about to punch him in the face and _look, he panicked, okay?_

And it was precisely because he panicked that he blurted, _"_ We're cousins! Distant cousins! So don't cry! Please!"

Ayumi brightened almost immediately, tears evaporating like puddles on a hot summer's day. Genta just stared in bewilderment, as if his brain couldn't quite process the meaning of Conan's words, and Conan didn't have a clue what Mitsuhiko's expression was supposed to mean—he was slack-jawed, his eyes wide and blank. His gaze flickered back and forth between Conan and Kai and then over to Haibara like he couldn't believe what Conan had just said. Haibara shrugged, then shot Conan the infamous _you-complete-moron_ look that she reserved specially for him.

"Oh, I get it!" Ayumi's blue eyes sparkled with excitement. "You could've just told us, you know! We would've invited him to eat lunch with us again, since you're family and all. Ooh, maybe it's not too late to ask him now? He's probably lonely without you."

"Uh." Conan glanced over at Kai, who was sat with some other kids, telling them a story that was, judging by their delighted laughter and enthralled expressions, far more entertaining than Genta's, and overall appearing the diametric opposite of lonely. "He looks busy."

Ayumi smiled encouragingly. "I'm sure he'll make time for family. Family always does. My mum told me that blood is thicker than water. I'm not sure what she meant, because it's not like we're vampires or anything, but she says that's how family works."

Now, Conan was and had always been an only child, but he was fairly certain that was not how it worked, especially not at school. "Yes, but–"

Fortunately, the bell for afternoon break saved him from having to protest further, and he hurried off to the library, ignoring Ayumi's cries of, "But family, Conan-kun! _Family!"_

-o-o-o-o-o-

Once in the library, he logged onto one of the school computers, partly as a distraction and partly because he'd been meaning to do some research on Kaitou Kid ever since he'd seen that news article the day before.

A quick internet search told him that Kuroba Kaito was only a few months younger than Shinichi was, born on June 21st—which made him either a Gemini or a Cancer, Conan supposed, depending on what source you looked at. June 21st was an odd date, on the border of two signs; a date that coincidentally fell within the "The Cusp of Magic", or so those who believed in astrology called it—a rather fitting name, actually, considering that Kid himself was a magician. An avid believer in horoscopes might even say that his date of birth influenced his interests.

Conan, of course, was above that nonsense. Zodiac signs were a load of superstitious nonsense to him—clumps of stars given months and traits by people desperate to find meaning where there wasn't.

"What'cha looking at, Conan-kun?" A head of brown hair popped up in front of Conan's eyes, obscuring his view of the computer screen. For a brief moment, Conan thought it might be Kai, but then he noticed the added honorific, and the fact that this person's voice was definitely higher-pitched than Kai's.

Gently nudging Ayumi out of the way, Conan closed down the web browser. "Just looking at horoscopes." It wasn't a lie, exactly—just not the whole truth. "What's up?"

He crossed his fingers behind his back, desperately hoping that Ayumi wouldn't bring up the whole "cousins" thing.

Fortunately, Ayumi seemed to have other things on her mind. "Horror...scopes?" Kicking her legs upwards, she let herself fall backwards onto the chair beside Conan. She tilted her head in puzzlement, pursing her lips as she swung her legs back and forth. "What's that mean?"

It was at times like this that Conan was reminded of just how young she actually was. It was simultaneously endearing and exhausting. "It's to do with zodiac signs. They're like little predictions based on when you were born."

Ayumi's eyes widened. "You can _do_ that?"

"No. You can't."

"But you just said–"

"Some people believe you can," Conan clarified. "But you can't."

"Oh." Ayumi frowned. "But what if you can?"

Shaking his head, Conan moved to shut down the computer. "You can't."

Ayumi stared at him for a moment or so, watching him shut down the machine and pick up his copy of _The Sign of Four._ She opened her mouth, seeming about to persist on the matter—but then asked, "Does picking a flower make you a murderer?"

For not the first time, Conan pondered on the attention spans of young children. He sighed. "Oh, Ayumi," he said, his lips quirking into a fond smile. "Don't ever change."

-o-o-o-o-o-

After that, break passed by uneventfully, and the final class of the day rolled around. All throughout last period Science, Conan watched Kai discreetly in a definitely-just-curious-and-not-at-all-stalkerish way. Oddly enough, Kai twisted around in his seat barely ten minutes into the lesson to talk to Mitsuhiko, who was sat behind him, and who looked distinctly pleased at garnering Kai's attention.

"I don't understand circuits at all," Kai announced, which was strange and almost certainly a lie, considering the fact that he'd already answered all nine of the questions on the board about electricity. "You're pretty smart, aren't you, Mitsuhiko? Explain them to me."

At this, Mitsuhiko's eyes lit up, and he launched into a lengthy, animated explanation of what was probably middle school level electricity knowledge—electrons, open and closed circuits and the difference between amps and volts. All the while, Kai pretended to listen, humming to himself.

It hit Conan then—the reason why Kai was asking Mitsuhiko questions despite knowing the answers already. It was the same reason for which he gave people roses and applauded their test scores.

Kurosawa Kai, it seemed, loved making people happy.

The thought made something warm and fond swell up Conan's chest—the same thing he felt every time one of the Detective Boys volunteered to help someone else out or solved a case. Pride, affection, tenderness: a mixture of all three.

Whether he sat with them at lunch or not, Kai was a Detective Boy, through and through.

Things progressed smoothly for a while. Conan did his schoolwork while Kai and Mitsuhiko whispered about who-knew-what (he could've sworn he heard the word 'dove' mentioned once or twice). It was odd, Conan decided. Only a few days ago, Kai and Mitsuhiko had barely been on speaking terms; now, however, they were chattering away like old friends. Well, _Kai_ was chattering away. Mitsuhiko was just kind of listening and occasionally interjecting.

Was it anything to do with what had happened on Friday after school? Because, sure, Mitsuhiko had claimed it was nothing, but Conan wasn't stupid. That had been a blatant lie and both Kai and Mitsuhiko knew it.

Also, Mitsuhiko was kind of a crappy liar. But that was besides the point.

The peace didn't last. Three-quarters of the way through the lesson, Conan caught the words 'Conan-kun' and 'cousin" being mentioned, and stiffened. He didn't need to hear the rest to know exactly what had just been said.

Kai blinked, his forehead creasing. "I am?" He glanced at Conan, who nodded. "Oh. I am." A sharp jab to Conan's shoulder alerted Conan to the fact that Haibara was leaning over and giving him a pointed look. Turning back to Kai, Conan hastily shook his head. Kai frowned, tilting his head. "Wait. No. I'm not? Or am I? Sorry, Mitsuhiko, 'fraid I'm gonna have to get back to you on this one."

Conan's head hit the desk.

"But Conan-kun told us you were related." Conan could practically hear the perplexed frown in Mitsuhiko's voice. "He said you were cousins."

"Gee, I don't know." Kai shrugged. "Maybe? Conan's kind of giving me mixed signals here."

"No!" Conan yelled, barely registering Kobayashi-sensei's disapproving look at his outburst. At a more indoor-friendly volume, he hissed, "We. Are. Not. Related. I only said that to get Ayumi off my back."

"Oh. Well. Nope. Not related. Don't tell Ayumi, though. Hush hush. Secret, 'kay?"

Mitsuhiko frowned, but reluctantly nodded. Kai leaned over and patted his head. "Good child," he said. "Why can't Co-chan be more like you?"

"Brat."

Kai giggled airily, beckoning for Mitsuhiko to lean in closer. Mitsuhiko obeyed, and Kai proceeded to stage-whisper in his ear, deliberately loud enough for Conan to hear. "You see, Mitsuhiko, if I patted Co-chan's head, he'd probably bite my hand off~" With that, Kai erupted into peals of childish laughter, and Mitsuhiko nervously laughed with him, his cheeks noticeably pink. He wore that lost expression people wore when they didn't understand a joke but laughed along anyway because everyone else was, and Conan pitied him a little. It was difficult enough for him, a seventeen-year-old, to keep up with Kai, let alone a seven-year-old.

Conan was beginning to take back his thoughts on Kai's intelligence. For definitely not the first time, he wondered if the kid had a few screws loose. Oh, right; he'd planned on conducting a background check with Hakuba, hadn't he? He really needed to get around to that.

"Shinigami."

Conan glanced questioningly over at Kai. "What?"

"My first guess," Kai said. "Are you a shinigami? Is that your secret?"

"No." Conan wrinkled his nose. "Those don't even exist."

"You don't know that. And besides, it'd explain why you run into so many dead bodies if you _create_ the dead bodies."

"I'll _create_ a dead body out of you if you don't shut up."

"Wow, okay. Aggressive. Anyway. That creepy Hattori guy's gone home, hasn't he? Do you want to go get ice-cream after school? Saguru-oniisan says I'm not allowed to anymore, which means I have to go, you know? It's my duty as a rebellious spirit to disregard any and all authority!"

Conan sighed. "If you think I'm helping you disobey Hakuba-san, you're mistaken. Besides, I can't. We—'we' being the Detective Boys—already agreed on going to Agasa-hakase's after school. Right, Mitsuhiko?"

"Um, yes," Mitsuhiko said slowly. "We agreed on it yesterday."

Kai's face fell, and he stuck out his bottom lip in a sullen pout. "But guys!" he whined, dragging out the 'u' in 'guys' for a solid five seconds. "You can't just leave me like that! We're friends, right? Friends don't abandon friends!"

Though secretly pleased at being addressed as a friend, Conan opened his mouth to turn Kai down—but then Kai clasped his hands together and did the freakiest thing with his eyes; they went all enormous and pleading and glistened with tears, and even though Conan knew the tears were fake, he could feel his heart melt more and more the longer he looked.

Damn it. This kind of witchcraft couldn't be fair.

Conan glanced over at Mitsuhiko, intending to form a non-verbal pact with him not to give Kai what he wanted. But unfortunate, pitiable Mitsuhiko was sat right beside Kai, and though he was evidently trying to keep his expression stoic, Conan could see his resolve crumbling away. It appeared that the effects of Kai's sorcery were more potent at close range.

"Kai," Conan said, making a point to not meet Kai's gaze. "Puppy-dog eyes won't work o—"

"I–I'm sure Hakase wouldn't mind if you tagged along," Mitsuhiko interrupted. "Right, Conan-kun?"

Conan's ensuing glare very clearly conveyed his sentiments. _Traitor. You weak-willed traitor._

 _Look, it wasn't my fault,_ Mitsuhiko seemed to say with his eyes. _You_ saw _those eyes, didn't you? How was I supposed to say no to those eyes?_

Or at least, that was how Conan interpreted Mitsuhiko's apologetic look.

Conan sighed. He supposed he couldn't exactly blame Mitsuhiko for giving into Kai's witchcraft. And maybe Kai's presence might actually prove entertaining. "Fine. But if Hakuba-san gets mad, you're taking full responsibility."

-o-o-o-o-o-

"This is so cool! Does Co-chan live this way?"

"Y—no," Conan replied. "I live at the Mouri Detective Agency with Ran-neechan and Kogoro-ojisan."

Kai didn't even seem to have heard. He ran to and fro, laughing and cheering with such excitement that you'd think that they were going on a grand adventure instead of taking the ten minute walk to Hakase's house.

Ayumi tentatively tapped Conan's shoulder. "Is he always like this?"

"Pretty much," Conan said. "You'll get used to it. Probably."

Up ahead, Kai twirled around a lamp post and pirouetted across the pavement. "It's been too long since I broke the rules!"

"You broke the rules two days ago, Kai-kun," Mitsuhiko pointed out.

Kai continued as though he hadn't heard. "Being a goody-two-shoes is so ridiculously boring. I don't know how you do it." Slowing to a stop, he peered up at the sky. It was a pretty shade of robin egg blue, Conan noticed, and dotted with wispy white clouds. "It's so bright, though! Summer must finally be on its way."

"It's great, don't you think?" Ayumi followed Kai's gaze with her own. "I hope it stays sunny like this all week."

"It's not long until summer break, either," Mitsuhiko said. "Soon we'll have six whole weeks to solve cases!"

Kai pulled a face. "Cases, cases, cases. I swear, that's all you detective freaks think about."

Conan flinched. In that fleeting moment, Kai had almost sounded like Ran.

As time wore on, Kai's pace gradually slowed. His prancing turned to skipping, his skipping to hopping, his hopping to marching, until finally he was walking like a regular human being. "Saguru-oniisan's a detective,too," he mused, almost to himself. "He's always bringing home paperwork and stuff from the police force. Says he wants to be an inspector when he grows up. Sounds kinda boring to me, but whatever floats his boat.

"He can't really yell at me if I come home late, anyway. He told me he has a super important client today. Or something. I don't know. Might be an assistant, actually." Kai paused, tapping his finger thoughtfully against his chin. "I wonder who it is."

-o-o-o-o-o-

"So, where'd you last see him?"

Saguru sighed and tapped his pen against the cover of his notebook. "We've already covered this, Hattori-kun. Multiple times. I haven't seen him since—" _Kaitou Kid's last heist. "_ —approximately a month ago, at school."

Saguru still remembered that day. Kuroba had stolen ("Borrowed," Kuroba would always insist. "It's not stealing if I give it back.") Hakuba's pocket watch and taken off down the corridor. Hakuba had given chase for the better part of an hour before he'd finally located the pocket watch in the school music room, with a note taped to the metal: _You'll never catch me if that's the best you can do._

The next time Saguru had seen him after that had been at the heist. And after that...nothing.

"Oi, Hakuba, focus." Hattori snapped his fingers in front of Saguru's face. "I don't wanna have to pull your weight here."

Saguru mumbled an apology, but Hattori just waved it off. "Stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Being…" Hattori wrinkled his nose. "Being all polite and civilised and stuff. It's creepy. Anyway, so you're sure that was the last time you saw him?"

Hattori's eyes were bright and sharp, like shards of sea glass—the kind of eyes that didn't miss a thing. If Saguru hadn't known better, he'd have thought that Hattori could see right through his lie. But that couldn't be possible—and, as much as Kuroba annoyed him, he wasn't about to betray his secret identity to someone he barely knew and liked even less.

"I'm certain."

Hattori scrutinised him for a moment, before seeming satisfied with Saguru's reply, and nodding. "Alright. So. A month ago. On…Monday?"

"You're correct."

Hattori frowned thoughtfully. "There was a heist that day, wasn't there? Did you go?"

"I did," Saguru said, trying his best to sound casual. Hattori gave him a strange look; apparently, Saguru wasn't too good at being casual in any sense of the word.

"Right. Okay." Hattori shook his head. "Did anything strange happen that night?"

"No." It wasn't a lie. As far as heists went, it had been average. He hadn't seen much out of the ordinary. Unless…

He frowned, moving to click his pen, before remembering it was a fountain pen. Recently, there had been snipers targeting Kid. If one of them had been at the heist, and the taskforce had somehow missed it, then Kuroba could be—

Kuroba could be _dead_.

A lump formed in Saguru's throat. He hadn't _liked_ Kuroba, but he hadn't hated him either. He certainly hadn't wanted him dead. And Aoko…

"Seriously, are you okay? You're spacing out." Hattori's eyebrows knitted together. There was a note of concern in his voice—something Saguru had never expected to hear directed at him. If you'd told him a week ago that he'd soon be sitting at his kitchen table opposite Hattori, cups of tea, notebooks, and pens strewn across the table in front of them, he would have nodded politely, not believing a word.

And yet, here he was.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Saguru thought on his options: tell Hattori everything, or keep quiet. Tell him the boy they were searching for was quite possibly dead, or keep pretending there was still hope.

No. That wasn't right. Either way, there was still hope. The snipers had never succeeded before—why would they now? If anyone could evade them, it was Kuroba.

But this was important information he was withholding. Kuroba had enemies. Saguru wasn't sure how many, but there were likely more than one. Snipers. Enemies. Should he tell Hattori? Or keep quiet? Tell Hattori? Keep quiet?

Had Saguru been anyone else, his head would have been pounding by now. But Saguru was used to his brain firing at light speed, and within seconds he'd come to a conclusion.

"I'm perfectly fine," he said smoothly. "Now that we've gathered all known information, where do you suggest we go from here?"

-o-o-o-o-o-

First period the next day was art.

Conan hadn't actually minded art back when he was Shinichi. He hadn't been particularly _good_ at it, but it'd been an easy lesson to him, one that didn't require much effort or conscious thinking.

Elementary school art lessons, however, required so little brain power that they were positively mind-numbing. Take their previous art project, for example—two weeks of _finger-painting_. By the end of the fortnight, Conan had been on the verge of tearing his artwork to shreds and throwing poster paint at the walls.

Now, though, Conan was hoping for something interesting. Something other than finger paints and watercolour flowers.

Kai, who had no prior experience with Teitan Elementary art projects, watched Conan fidget in his seat with a curious expression on his face. "Co-chan, you look like you're holding in your pee. What's up?"

Conan wrinkled his nose at the crude comparison, but glanced over at him. "New art project," he said. "Fingers crossed."

"Art project?" Kai leaned forward, resting his chin on his palms. "What's there to be worried about? It can't be that bad."

" _Finger-painting_."

Kai's jaw dropped. "You're kidding."

"Unfortunately not."

"No way." Kai's eyes went wide with horror. "I haven't finger-painted since that one time my dad bought me acrylics from the art store." His voice dropped to a strangled whisper. " _Never again_."

Conan didn't want to know.

Looking over at him solemnly, Kai said, "If we ever do finger-painting in art, promise you'll help me lead a revolt."

 _Finally_ , Conan had found an ally in his battle against horrifying elementary school projects. "Promise."

At that moment, Kobayashi-sensei walked in. Conan and Kai both held their breath as she picked up a piece of chalk from her desk and scrawled two words on the blackboard: _abstract art._ Conan's heart lightened, and when Kai grinned at him, he even mustered a grin in return. There were some aspects of his childhood that he never wanted to repeat.

"Class." Kobayashi-sensei turned to them, chalk still in hand. "Does anyone know what abstract art is?"

Nobody raised their hand. To his left, Conan could see Kai take out his phone under the desk and start tapping away at the screen.

"Abstract art is art that isn't supposed to look like a real thing," she said, and Conan admired how she managed to explain the weirdest and most complicated of art in a way that six- to seven-year-olds could easily understand. "It focuses more on shapes and colours. In class, we're going to be creating our own abstract art, and in a few weeks, we'll be going to Haido Art Gallery to find some inspiration."

The class cheered, and Conan's mood brightened exponentially. He could remember going to Haido Art Gallery on a school trip during his first childhood. He and Ran had spent the majority of the trip trying to puzzle out what all the abstract paintings meant. They'd made up stories explaining what they thought all the paintings were about, and eventually concluded that abstract art was too weird for sane individuals to understand.

Permission slips were passed around. Kai seemed surprised when a slip found its way onto his desk, but he scanned it and jammed it into his schoolbag anyway, before returning to whatever mobile game he'd been playing a few moments beforehand. Hardly anyone paid attention as Kobayashi-sensei showed them various examples of abstract art, too busy buzzing over the upcoming school trip.

That lunchtime, the Detective Boys gathered at their usual table.

"This is going to be my first time on a school trip for more than a day," Ayumi admitted as she prodded at her bento. "I'm a bit nervous."

Mitsuhiko smiled encouragingly. "Cheer up, Ayumi-chan. We're the Detective Boys, remember? We've been through so much more. Besides," he added. "For many of our classmates, this will be their first time away from home ever. Everyone's nervous."

"I'm not," Kai chimed from where he sat on his own at another table, a small distance away from the others. His bento lay forgotten. Spread out in front of him were several notebooks, plastic folder, marker pens and… _blueprints?_ "This is going to be epic. I plan on slipping away from the rest of the group, taking the train to Osaka and teepeeing that Heiji-niisan bastard's house."

"Kai-kun!" Ayumi gasped. "You said a bad word!"

Kai flinched. "Oops."

Mitsuhiko frowned disapprovingly. "You really shouldn't say words like that, Kai-kun."

"Don't tell me how to live my life."

Conan just stared. "What the–" He got up, stormed over to Kai and peered over his shoulder. "Those _are_ blueprints!" he hissed. "Kai! Why do you have those and where did you get them?"

In one swift movement, Kai rolled up the blueprints and swept his supplies into his schoolbag, but not before Conan caught a glimpse of the words 'Haido Museum' printed in the top left hand corner. "I stole them from Saguru-oniisan," Kai said blithely, not a hint of shame or guilt in his tone. "He works with the Kid Taskforce, so he has access to top secret stuff. _Apparently_ , Nakamori-keibu got a heist note recently. Saguru-oniisan's really desperate to go to this heist, too. He thinks—he's hoping he might—never mind."

Conan raised an eyebrow, but before he could open his mouth to question further, Ayumi piped up with, "We're taking a coach, there, aren't we? Who wants to sit with me?"

Haibara looked up from inspecting her manicure. "I'll sit with you."

Ayumi beamed. Conan frowned. He'd been hoping to sit next to Haibara on the coach, if only so he could hold an intelligent conversation for once. He sighed. "I guess I'll sit with—"

"Meeeeeeeee!"

Conan shot Kai a Look.

"What?" Kai pouted. "You were going to say it."

"You don't know that."

"I do too," Kai said, "cause I'm your bestest friend and you love me with all your puny, shrivelled up li'l heart."

"I can't even count how many things are wrong with that statement."

* * *

 **For all you Americans out there, coaches are like buses for longer journeys, with comfier seats and actual seat belts. But anyway. I haven't updated in ages, for reasons. I'm working on several side projects, so I haven't had as much time to write** — **pair that with exams and a tendency to procrastinate and you get a three month hiatus. But I'm back now!**


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